












Glass 






Book G; ^ ? r 


foipght T g 

COPBRIGHT DEPOSrr. 


I 


I 










“don’t you want to come?’ 




MARGERY 

MORRIS- 

MASCOT 

By 

VIOLET GORDON GRAY 

Author of Margery Morrit" 


Illustrated by 

ADA C. WILLIAMSON 


THE PENN PUBLISHING 
COMPANY PHILADELPHIA 
1919 



COPYRIGHT 
1919 BY 
THE PENN 
PUBLISHING 
COMPANY 



Margery Morris, Mascot 


JUl I / ibis 


©CI,A530236 



mt mother 


Introduction 


An earlier book, ** Margery Morris,’^ told the 
story of the experiences of a young girl in a 
quaint old Quaker town in New Jersey. It 
told of the friends she made, the fun and mis- 
haps she had, and of the great surprise she 
received at the end. 

Much against her will she had come to visit 
her grandfather whom she had not seen since 
she was a child, and her visit did not begin 
happily. But the kindly welcome of the old 
housekeeper, the jolly comradeship of the two 
boy cousins and the friendship of a girl of 
her own age, Polly Jameson, helped to rem- 
edy her discontent. Events occurred which 
caused her distress and finally a strange 
discovery. Through her own trouble she 
learned the truth of a verse the old doctor 
taught her : 

** Two things stand like stone, 

Kindness in your neighbor's trouble, 
Courage in your own.^^ 

5 


6 


INTRODUCTION 


The second book, ** Margery Morris, Mas- 
cot,^^ is an account of the winter and spring 
that follow the events in the first book. 
Margery, who longs for a career, hits upon the 
unassuming one of “ mascot,” and decides to 
bring all the happiness she can into the lives 
of others. This, however, turns out to be not 
quite so simple as it seems. Ludicrous mis- 
haps follow some of her well-intentioned 
efforts, others of them are misunderstood and 
she suffers embarrassment and trial. She 
struggles on, however, doing her best, until 
just as she is on the point of giving way to 
discouragement, a final resolution to stick it 
out and play the game brings her success and 
happiness once more. 


Contents 


I. 

Skating 





II 

II. 

Sam Appears 





24 

III. 

The Wee Party 





42 

.IV. 

Calls 





57 

V. 

In the City 





81 

VI. 

La Grippe 





97 

VII. 

Miss Patty 





III 

VIII. 

Tea Stacks 





123 

IX. 

In the Greenwood 





143 

X. 

Hedwig’s Home . 





158 

XI. 

Old Hans 





171 

XIL 

Princeton 





188 

XIII. 

Bunnie 





213 

XIV. 

Dick 





225 

XV. 

Gossip 





235 

XVI. 

Polly's Party . 





246 

XVII. 

Margery Tries the Telephone 


255 

XVIII. 

Explanations . 





275 

XIX. 

T RIALS 





287 

XX. 

“ The Harm You Have Done 

it 


299 

XXL 

Sam Takes a Hand 





308 

XXII. 

At the Farm . 





324 

XXIII. 

“ She's Our Mascot 

»> 




339 


7 


Illustrations 


Don't You Want to Come ? ” 

PAGE 

. Frontispiece 

“ Here We Are, Auntie ” 

. . 89 . 

“What Made You Forget ? ” 

. . 202^ 

“There's No Sense in Being So Prim" 

. . 256 ^ 

“ But You Aren’t All Right, Dear " 

. 314^^ 


Margery Morris, Mascot 


9 


Margery Morris, Mascot 


CHAPTER I 

SKATING 

One knee on the top rail of the fence by the 
roadway, Margery Morris paused to watch the 
skaters on the creek. 

The first really good skating of the winter 
had brought out the boys and girls of Ren- 
wyck's Town in full force, and according to a 
time-honored custom they had gathered where 
the creek made a wide bend through the farm 
belonging to Dick BalFs grandfather. 

It was Margery ^s first experience of a coun- 
try winter, and to-day was to mark her initial 
appearance in public as a skater. Ever since 
the ice had been strong enough she had been 
practicing privately on the branch of the creek 
that ran through her grandfather's place, un- 
der the instruction of Hector, the gardener's 
assistant. 

She had progressed to the point where she 
11 


12 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

could take at least three strokes of quite pro- 
fessional skill. After that, her feet, as though 
overcome by the brilliancy of their own per- 
formance, would take charge of affairs and 
suddenly crossing in front of her would keep 
on crossing until only the manful efforts of 
the faithful Hector kept her from being seated 
on the ground with more violence and haste 
than was desirable. Occasionally, Hector, 
whose build was not as heroic as his name, 
would find himself unable to cope with the 
situation as thrust upon him and they both 
would take a tumble ; Hector as a rule, fortu- 
nately for Margery and unfortunately for him- 
self, underneath. 

Margery, perched on the fence, rubbed her 
elbow, already bruised and aching, with sor- 
rowful anticipation. She had made up her 
mind, however, to become an accomplished 
skater ; so with a bound she cleared the top 
rail and landed in the field. Her skates 
clanking beside her, she ran along the path, 
beaten hard through the snowy meadow, to 
the row of giant old willow trees marking the 
edge of the creek. The clang of the skates on 
the ice, the shouts of the skaters rang clearly 


SKATING 


13 

through the frosty air. Resting on the fallen 
trunk of one of the willows she found a group 
of flushed and laughing boys and girls. Her 
pet, little Benjamin Ball, and the rest of the 
smaller fry made the most of their opportuni- 
ties and skated gloriously out into the middle 
of the creek, a place untenable for them 
when occupied by longer-legged, stronger 
boys and recklessly flourished hockey sticks. 

Oh, hello I There’s Margery I ” cried her 
especial friend Polly Jameson, as Margery 
came in sight. 

Sam Bennet got up and offered her his 
place on the log. '' Glad you’ve come,” he 
declared. I see you have your skates — good 
for you. I’ll put them on for you.” 

Come on, Margie,” said Polly Jameson as 
soon as the skates were on. Let’s skate 
down to the turn and back.” 

Hand in hand with Polly, Margery started 
off* bravely, only a moment or two later to 
cross her feet with almost fatal effect. 

'' Whoa I ” laughed Polly, holding her up. 
”What are you trying to do? Sam, come 
here and hold Margery up on the other side. 
Now then — one, two, three.” 


14 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

Sam obligingly seized Margery by the other 
arm, and they made a trip down to the turn 
and back with flying colors. 

That's fine," encouraged Polly. Keep 
it up, and you'll be a champion skater. All 
right, Dick," as a tall blond boy joined them, 

I'll race you down to the turn. Consider 
yourself beaten already." 

Polly darted off, and Sam gallantly took up 
the task of filling Hector's place as instructor, 
and, in case of a tumble, as mat. But a long- 
legged youth with wing-like ears who was 
demonstrating the chicken-bill star, not to 
mention the Maltese cross and the double 
grape-vine, proved a tempter. After an ago- 
nized endeavor on Sam's part to fulfil his duty 
as he saw it and stick by Margery, he found 
the attraction too great and drifted ojff across 
the creek. 

Left alone, Margery stood still and looked 
about her. Down by the turn she could see 
Polly's scarlet tam-o'-shanter, and close be- 
hind it Dick Ball's dark blue skating cap. 
Across the creek Sam Bennet and a group of 
boys were describing circles with their left 
legs and marvelous loops with their right ; 


SKATING 


IS 

while skating easily and gracefully along the 
creek in the opposite direction were her friends 
Esther Crowell and Sally Watson, in a long 
line with two or three other girls and those 
of the lads who had not succumbed to the 
spell of Sam's long-legged, wing-eared tempter. 

Nearer shore, Benjamin and his small 
friends struggled happily. Falling down 
with shouts of delighted laughter after every 
third stroke or so, they picked themselves up, 
only to fall down again. See me I '' they 
would shout. Wasn't it funny the way I 
sat down ? " 

Those of them who had no skates found life 
still satisfactory, for they had manufactured a 
slide of such an impossible state of slipperi- 
ness that they fell down with a rapidity and 
amusingness quite as certain as that of their 
friends on runners. 

I wish some of the other girls had come/' 
sighed Margery. '' Some of the greenhorns 
like me." A little timidly she struck out for 
herself. All went well at first, and with short, 
choppy strokes she managed to reach the mid- 
dle of the creek. There her feet betrayed her 
again, and she came down full length on the 


i6 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

back of her head ; a tumble that might have 
been serious had it not been for her thick 
curls and her heavy woolen skating cap. 

Her head spinning from her fall, she strug- 
gled to her knees and then cautiously man- 
aged to regain her feet. As she stood up the 
long line of skaters with Esther and Sally in 
the center swept past her. 

Hello, Margie,'^ cried Esther over her 
shoulder. ‘‘ Come along.^^ 

** Yes, do,*' echoed Sally. 

The boy at the end of the line dropped back 
and held out his hand. Hurry up — catch 
on," he called. 

Margery shook her head. " I can't," she 
answered despairingly. 

" Don't you want to come ? " called back 
Esther. 

Margery shook her head again. I can’t I " 
she tried to explain. 

Not comprehending that Margery's refusal 
came from a lack of ability and not from a 
lack of inclination, the line swept on. Billy 
Hedges, the boy who had held out his hand to 
her, evidently feeling himself rebuffed, has- 
tened to catch up with the rest without 


SKATING 


17 

another look at poor Margery. He was al- 
ready suspicious of her as a city girl and the 
granddaughter of the wealthy Henry Morris, 
and perhaps a little “stuck up.’^ 

As the other skaters passed, Sam and his 
group of boys closed in around her, a vigorous, 
rushing, shouting horde. Taking short, timid 
clumping steps, for she still felt jarred from 
her fall, Margery started to make her way 
through the throng to the side of the creek 
where were the small fry. A youth skat- 
ing backwards bumped into her and almost 
knocked her down. He hastily apologized 
and skated off, and she clumped back to her 
little oasis of safety to wait for another open- 
ing. 

“ Why so superior. Pegs ? said a voice at 
her elbow. “ Why aren't you skating with 
anybody ? " 

“ Oh, Dick, I'm so glad you've come I I'm 
stuck here. Won't you take me to the 
edge ? " 

“ Why, what's the matter ? Don't you 
know how to skate ? " 

“ Not very well. Don't tell a soul — I’m 
getting Hector to teach me." She laughed a 


1 8 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

little in spite of herself. Poor Hector, — I 
fall down on him so much that I^m afraid 
that there will be nothing left of him I 

I won^t let you fall. Come along, there's 
a nice quiet place down the creek there. 
Give me your hands. Strike out with your 
right foot. That's fine I Steady I Now 
then." 

Dick Ball skated exceptionally well. With 
his strong steady grasp he held Margery up, 
and together they fairly fiew down the creek. 

Oh, that was perfect 1 " cried Margery 
breathlessly, as they paused to rest in the lea 
of a spreading pine-tree. Don't you love to 
feel the wind in your face? " 

Did you see Polly skating?" asked Dick 
as they crossed hands and started up the creek 
again. She's a fine skater." 

Polly does everything well," Margery de- 
clared enthusiastically. “ Dick," she added 
with a laugh, ** do you remember when I first 
came to Renwyck’s Town — how angry I was 
because I had to come?" 

Do I ? " chuckled Dick. 

** Shouldn't I have missed a lot if I had 
stayed in San Francisco? Think of not 


SKATING 


19 

knowing Polly! And of not being with 
Grandpapa 1 

''Your being here means a lot to him> I 
imagine. He told my grandfather the other 
day that in spite of his ill-health he feels ten 
years younger. He said, too, that you bring 
a lot of life and fun to the house.^' 

They stopped to watch some crows clustered 
in the branches of a low stunted pine-tree on 
the other side of the creek. 

" I like to hear the crows,^' observed Mar- 
gery as Dick swung her round and they 
started down toward the bend. " They sound 
so wintry. 

" Oh, what do you suppose is going to 
happen at our house exclaimed Dick sud- 
denly. " I forgot to tell you.^^ 

"Something nice, I hope,'' Margery an- 
swered somewhat doubtfully ; she knew the 
peculiarities of Dick's grandfather and how 
hard a path Dick, at times, had to tread. 

" Bunnie is going to arrive next week 1 " 

"'Bunnie'? Oh, you mean your cousin 
Elizabeth Morris? — the one I was supposed 
to be?" 

"The same. Grandfather had it all ar- 


20 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

ranged before he told us a word about it. 
He’s as pleased as a dog with side-pockets/' 

** Are you pleased?” asked Margery quickly. 

Dick laughed. I’ll tell you that when 
I’ve seen her,” he answered with his usual 
caution. I’ve managed to like one Mr. 
Henry Morris’s granddaughter, — I hope I 
like the other Mr. Henry Morris’s grand- 
daughter as well. It is funny, isn’t it, 
both our grandfathers being named Henry 
Morris ? ” 

His gaze wandered up the creek where the 
boys were starting a game of crack-the-whip. 
Somewhat sensitive as to her limitations as a 
skating partner and still bothered by her ach- 
ing head, Margery suggested that Dick take 
her back to the log, where she could rest 
while he went off to join the other lads. 

Dick escorted her up the creek to the edge, 
where she clumped her way to the log. There, 
with a long sigh of weariness, she sank down, 
her feet heavy with her skates sticking for- 
lornly out in front of her. The shadows 
lengthened as the winter’s afternoon drew on 
and the air grew colder. Shivering, Margery 
pulled on over her sweater the warm outer 


SKATING 


21 


coat she had discarded when she began to 
skate, and plunged her hands deep in its 
pockets. With wistful eyes she watched the 
gay, agile throng. Several of the boys and 
girls came to ask her to skate with them but 
she shook her head. 

“ No, thank you,” she declined. ‘‘ I'm ' all 
out of puff,' as Benjie Ball says.'' 

A little figure detached itself from the group 
of youngsters sliding near by and made its way 
toward her. ** I fell down and hurt my knee,'' 
Benjamin lamented. '‘See, — I've tored my 
stocking.” 

Delighted to see her favorite, Margery made 
room for him beside her and slipping off her 
coat wrapped it around them both, lest Ben- 
jamin, overheated, should take cold. 

“ I like you, Margie,” observed Benjamin, 
contentedly munching the chocolate Margery 
had found in one of her coat pockets. " My 
cousin Bunnie is coming to visit us, and 
maybe she'll be pretty and nice like you. 
But I shan’t love her as much as I do you, 
Margie.” 

Margery promptly kissed him, to his wrig- 
gling discomfiture. He adored Margery, but 


22 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

he preferred her caresses when his chum 
Reggie Smedly was not at hand. 

The energetic honking of an automobile 
horn cut short Benjamin's embarrassment. 
Hastily taking off her skates, Margery hurried 
up the path to the waiting car. 

After the wintry fields and bleak, frozen 
roads, she was glad to see the lights of her 
grandfather's big, comfortable house streaming 
out across garden and lawn. A generous fire 
was blazing in the hall fireplace ; pulling off 
her gloves, Margery fell on her knees and 
held out her hands to the welcome blaze. 

‘'Is that you, Margery?" called a voice 
from the library. 

“ Yes, Grandpapa." Picking up her skates, 
Margery slid across the polished floor to the 
library door. “ I've had such a funny time I " 
she announced to the white-haired man sitting 
by a tall reading lamp. " But I fell down and 
gave my head a crack," she added with a rue- 
ful rub of the back of her head. 

Her grandfather took off his glasses. “ Tell 
me about it," he smiled. 

Obligingly, Margery plumped down on the 
big davenport and, her arm around the neck 


SKATING 


23 

of the mastiff curled up there, recounted her 
experiences and mishaps of the afternoon. 

It was such an obviously stiff and bruised 
girl that dragged herself to bed that night, 
that Miss Tucker, the trained nurse attending 
Mr. Morris's convalescence, insisted on rub- 
bing her with liniment. 

I'm afraid. Miss Tucker, that you are go- 
ing to have a steady job before you of first aid 
to the injured," sighed Margery. Grand- 
papa has promised to have that funny little 
lawn back of the house flooded — it'll freeze 
over and I can skate there when the ice isn't 
thick enough on the creek. And then — I'm 
going to learn to skate really well." 

Miss Tucker had been an amused spectator 
at some of Margery's performances with Hec- 
tor. Now she laughed. '' How will you learn 
to be a ^ really' good skater ? " she asked. 

By getting up every time I fall down," 
answered Margery with characteristic deter- 
mination. 


CHAPTER II 


SAM APPEARS 

“ Mother, don't you think it would be a 
fine idea if I were to give a party to-night? " 

Mrs. Jameson raised startled eyes from the 
letter she was writing. A party ? " she re- 
peated helplessly, gazing at her tall young 
daughter standing by the fireplace. “ Dear 
child! To-night?" 

Polly gave a vigorous thrust with the poker 
at the back-log, watched the suddenly mount- 
ing fiame critically for a moment, then turned 
again to her mother. 

“ Please, Mother," she begged. Not a 
really-truly-black-and-bluely, ice-cream-and- 
chicken-salad, invitations - out - for - a - month- 
ahead sort of party! Just the wee-est little 
party anybody could possibly imagine. With- 
out one bit of fuss and feathers ! " 

Her first apprehension relieved, Mrs. Jame- 
son's mind went back to her letter. “ Umm, 
yes, — oh, very well. Have it if you want to, 
24 


SAM APPEARS 


25 

dear,” she answered absently. “ I must finish 
this letter to Aunt Helen, — it ought to have 
been written two weeks ago. Whom are you 
going to have at your party ? ” she added has- 
tily as Polly went to the telephone stand in 
the corner. 

First and foremost, Elizabeth, alias Bun- 
nie, Morris.” 

” Who on earth is Bunnie Morris?” 

‘‘Oh, don't you remember. Mother? I told 
you at luncheon that Dick's cousin arrived in 
Renwyck's Town last night.” 

“ Oh, yes, of course I It had slipped my 
mind.” 

“ Well, I thought that it would be a good 
scheme to have Margery and Esther and some 
of the others to meet her. In case she's feel- 
ing lonely. Don't you remember how hard 
it was for Margery at school at first? ” 

‘‘ Margery has taken her place pretty well, 
now, hasn't she ? ” 

‘‘ Yes, indeed,” Polly assented eagerly, 
“ Margery is ever so popular. She deserves 
to be. I can't imagine Margery doing a mean 
thing.” 

“Yes,” agreed Mrs. Jameson, “there's some- 


26 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

thing very direct and honest about Margery. 
And now to get to business, dear. If you are 
going to have these young people here, you 
must have something for them to do. And 
something hot to drink, for they will need it 
before they drive home on a cold night like 
this. Missouri shows every sign of develop- 
ing a * misery in her haid,^ and it is Hannah’s 
night out, remember; so you will have to look 
after the refreshments yourself. And you 
will have to arrange to spend the evening in 
the front room — see that there is wood for the 
open fire. Your father wants this room, — he 
is going to have a meeting of the vestry here 
this evening.” 

All right. Mother, I’ll look after every- 
thing. Hot chocolate and sandwiches would 
be nice, — don’t you think so? I don’t know 
exactly what we can do to amuse ourselves — 
charades or something, I suppose. The chief 
thing is to have something to break the ice at 
the beginning. Wouldn’t it be a good idea 
if I were to ask Margery in to spend the 
night? She could help me plan things. 
Please, Mother. It’s Friday night, remember, 
Mother. And I promise we won’t talk late.” 


SAM APPEARS 27 

“ Very well, child. Now do let me finish 
this letter. I feel as though I should never 
have it written I 

Polly resumed her telephoning, and Mrs. 
Jameson made another attempt at her corre- 
spondence. 

That^s all right/' Polly announced hang- 
ing up the receiver. Dick and Bunnie can 
come. I wonder what she looks like. Small 
and plump and very blond, I somehow 
imagine. Now for Margery." 

The conversation with Margery was evi- 
dently highly satisfactory to judge from the 
ecstatic squeals to which Polly gave vent. 
Mrs. Jameson looked up from her letter and 
smiled in sympathy. "How happy those 
youngsters are," she thought. "And how 
care-free I But, oh dear, they are growing 
up. I really must lengthen Polly's skirts I " 

"Margery is coming, Mother. Isn't that 
fine ? But she's playing chess with her 
grandfather, and she thinks she oughtn't to 
leave him until he's tired of it. Isn't she 
devoted to him ?" 

" It's a very good thing she is. Mr. Morris 
needed her. He had been a recluse too long." 


28 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

“ The White House Farm does seem a dif- 
ferent place with Margery there, doesn’t it? 
Now for Esther and Sam and Billy Hedges. 
Shall I ask Harry Richards ? ” 

“ Harry Richards ? What is he doing at 
home?” 

“ Rusticating, I suppose. I saw his mother 
on the way home from school to-day. She 
didn t look awfully cheerful and I gathered 
from what she said that Harry had been in 
another scrape at boarding-school.” 

Mrs. Jameson frowned slightly. ” I’m not 
an ardent admirer of that young gentleman. 
However, as we don’t know that he is sus- 
pended from school, and as his mother is so 
quick to resent any apparent slight, perhaps 
we had better invite him.” 

“Harry is out,” Polly announced a few 
minutes later, “but his mother accepts for 
him ‘with pleasure.’ So that is settled. 
Now for the eats.” 

“For the what, Polly?” inquired Mrs. 
Jameson, reprovingly. She was waging a 
gallant, if at times unsuccessful, campaign 
against slang. 

“The victuals, then,” explained Polly 


SAM APPEARS 29 

tranquilly, ** since you insist on elegance in 
language/' 

Mrs. Jameson laughed. ^‘Run along, you 
bad child." 

'' Where, oh where has my little dog 
gone? " warbled Polly happily, if tunelessly, 
as she went down the long old-fashioned hall 
through the pleasant dining-room to the 
pantry, where a stout colored woman was 
beating eggs with tornadic energy. 

Missouri," she began, I'm going to have 
a few boys and girls here this evening, and I 
want to make some sandwiches. May I have 
the materials now ? " 

Missouri rolled a black and majestic eye at 
her. '' Ah'se got a misery in my haid," she 
said with an air of finality. Ah didn't gib 
up de finest wash practice in Renwyck's Town 
ter habyoung ladies a-traipsin' in mah pantry." 

A neat young colored girl appeared from 
the kitchen. Ah'll git the things fer you. 
Miss Polly," she said softly. But ah reckon* 
yer'd bettah make de sandwidges in de din- 
in'-room." 

Polly laughed and retreated discreetly. 

The coal fire in the dining-room grate was 


30 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

burning brightly and the room was warm and 
cozy. Outside, the snow was falling steadily, 
banking up against the window-panes and 
covering the tail shrubs by the side-veranda. 
Polly paused to look out of the window. She 
loved the old garden planted and laid out by 
her great-grandmother. From the days when 
her baby hands had snatched olF the heads of 
the dandelions in the grass under the happy 
impression that she was pickin^ flowers for 
de Mam-ma to the past summer when she 
had dug and planted with the born gardener^s 
success, some of her happiest hours had been 
spent within its box-borders. With a little 
sigh of satisfaction she turned from the win- 
dow and, taking up the bread-knife, went to 
work. 

East, west, hame is best,” she sang. 

The short winter afternoon rapidly drifted 
into twilight, and the room grew dim save for 
the fire. As Polly finished the last sandwich 
and spread a napkin over the plate, there was 
a sudden peal at the front door-bell. ‘‘ I'll 
go, Hannah,” she cried, jumping to her feet 
and running down the hall. I think that 
it’s Miss Margery Morris.” 


SAM APPEARS 31 

With eager fingers she turned the heavy, 
old-fashioned door-knob and opened the door. 
On the step outside, dancing rapidly from 
foot to foot, her fur cap and dark coat covered 
with snow, stood Margery. 

Polly reached out a long arm and dragged 
her in. “ Oh, Marge,” she cried, “ I’m so glad 
you’ve come! Aren’t you happy that it’s 
snowing ? Did you finish your game of 
chess? Have you seen Dick’s cousin yet? 
Do you know any new game we can play to- 
night?” 

Yes. No. Yes,” answered Margery at 
random, shaking the snow from her cap. 

Polly laughed. “ Po’ lil’ lamb !— didn’t 
she have time to answer urn’s questions ? 
Well, come up to my room, and I’ll ask the 
questions over again, more slowly.” 

She picked up Margery’s bag and they went 
up the stairs together. 

“ Why, Polly,” Margery exclaimed as they 
entered the door, “ what have you done to 
your room ? It looks different.” 

“ Simply got to work yesterday and cleared 
away all the trash,— and delighted Mother’s 
heart. Your room looks so well without ten 


32 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

million pennants and pictures pinned up, and 
snap-shots all over everything, that I decided 
to take mine down. Then I put all the fur- 
niture that doesn’t match the bed and dress- 
ing-table in the storeroom. Do you remem- 
ber that funny little gilt sofa that always 
looked as though it were going to break 
down ? Mother is going to get me some 
hollyhock cretonne for window-valances and 
chair-covers. What are you eoine to wear 
to-night ? ” 

As the two girls had not seen each other 
since school closed for the day, nearly five 
hours before, they had an endless amount to 
chatter about, and dinner was ready before 
they were dressed. 

Soon after dinner the nine dignified gentle- 
men who, with Mr. Jameson, comprised the 
vestry of old St. Peter’s, began to arrive and 
were ushered into the library, where their 
voices could be heard in the vast amount of 
discussion evidently necessary to settle the 
limited affairs of the parish. 

In the front living-room, Margery and 
Polly lighted lamps and cleared the big 
center-table for games. Just as Polly had 


SAM APPEARS 33 

settled a pot of azaleas to her satisfaction on 
the piano after having carried it three times 
around the room and tried its effect on every 
piece of furniture available, the bell rang and 
Dick came in, and behind him a tall figure 
wrapped in a long black hooded cloak. 

This is my cousin,” Dick announced, 
“ and these, Bunnie, are Polly Jameson and 
Margery Morris.” 

“ See if you can guess which is which,” said 
Polly. 

” The dark one is Polly, and the light one 
is Margery.” Dick’s cousin spoke in a deep, 
rather husky contralto. “ How do you do? 
— I’ve heard a lot about you and your ad- 
ventures,” and she held out her hand to 
Margery. “ I wonder if you can help me get 
this hood thing off without mussing my 
hair?” 

The cloak dropped to the floor and the 
visitor stood revealed. Margery and Polly, 
watching her with eager interest, gasped at her 
prettiness and the gorgeousness of her attire, 
'fhe plump, fluffy little blond thing of Polly’s 
imagination was tall, almost too tall for her 
slender width ; the face which crowned the 


34 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

long body was a pretty one, with its small red 
mouth, tip-tilted nose, and vivid blue eyes, — 
eyes that seemed all the bluer because of the 
masses of straight black hair above them. 
Her gown of deep coral silk, made with more 
elaborateness than skill, was in striking con- 
trast to the simple frocks of Polly and Mar- 
gery. 

I^m afraid — I’m sorry ” stammered 

grown suddenly ill at ease. ‘‘ It’s just 
a little, informal party.” 

Bunnie looked at Margery’s blue voile, 
then down at her own costume. ** I am 
dressed up,” she admitted with a smile. To 
tell the truth, I was simply too tired to dive 
down into my trunk after something else. 
It’s awfully funny about me, but I hate to 
unpack.” 

Polly smiled back at her, relieved. This 
strange girl was not going to be so alarming, 
after all. 

Dick, fearing that the girls would settle 
down to a clothes conversation, had already 
slipped into the living-room and was making 
friends with Polly’s small black kitten 
stretched out before the fire. 


SAM APPEARS 35 

“ Oh, Margery ! ” exclaimed Polly as the 
girls entered the room. 

What’s the matter? ” 

Nothing. I had an idea, that's all. 
Mother,” as Mrs. Jameson came in to welcome 
Bunnie, I must go down to old Jimmy’s.” 

Nonsense, Polly.” 

Yes, — but Mother ! — Margery and I have 
thought up a stunt for to-night, and I’ve just 
remembered something we need for it.” 

” No, Polly,” said Mrs. Jameson, firmly, 
'‘you mayn’t go down there alone at this time 
of night.” 

“ I’ll go for you, Polly,” offered Dick. 

“Oh, thank you, Dick. You’re a brick. 
Margery and I will go with you, and we can 
explain about the stunt on the way, — you’ll 
have to be in it. Do you mind if we go with 
Dick, Mother?” 

“ Oh, no, dear — it’s all right if you have 
Dick with you. Will you go with them ? ” 
Mrs. Jameson added, turning to Bunnie. 

Bunnie smiled and shook her head. “ If 
you don’t mind,” she said in her deep, husky 
voice, “ I should like to go up-stairs and fix 
my frock. I’m afraid it’s hooked up wrong 


36 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

in the back. And I'm the kind of a person 
that hates to be untidy." 

** Will Jimmy’s be open?" asked Margery, 
as she and Polly slipped into their coats. 

Jimmy's is always open," declared Dick, 
opening the front door for them. I don't 
believe that he ever sleeps I " 

Snow, snow, be-yew-ti-ful snow I " warbled 
Polly as she ran down the front steps. ‘‘ Oh, 
don't you love the snow? I could roll in it, 

over and over, and ov " With a wild 

shriek and a despairing clutch at the air, she 
fell prone on the snowy sidewalk. 

Shouting with laughter, Dick and Margery 
hauled their prostrate friend to her feet, and 
they hurried on their way. Down a narrow 
side street they stopped before a little many- 
paned window, filled with a remarkable col- 
lection of candy, toys, tobacco, ribbons, and 
penny valentines of the type known as comic. 
A low roof hung over it dejectedly, and re- 
peated gradings of the street had raised the 
sidewalk to within a foot of the window-sill. 

Here we are," and Dick opened the door. 
A bell jangled furiously, and as they plunged 
down the two steep steps that led into the 


SAM APP EARS 27 

shop, a tall, thin old man with a long white 
beard appeared to wait upon them. 

While Polly invested in three soap-bubble 
pipes, and a couple of yards of bright green 
ribbon, which the old man wrapped up with 
solemn dignity, Margery and Dick amused 
themselves with inspecting the stock in trade. 
Margery was particularly interested in a show- 
case containing pink and yellow bananas and 
locomotives of a curious rubbery substance, 
which Dick whispered was called marsh- 
mallow,^^ depressed chocolate creams of a 
sickly hue, and long strips of paper with tiny 
pink or green candy buttons pasted thereon 
in rows. 

Do you suppose anybody ever eats them ? '' 
she asked as they left the shop. 

'' Yes, indeed,” laughed Polly. The chil- 
dren of Renwyck's Town do — and live to tell 
the tale. Isn't Jimmy funny? When Esther 
and I were little we used to think he was 
Santa Claus, and it worried us because he 
was so thin. Now we must hurry back I ” 
Meanwhile, Sam Bennet was wending his 
way from the opposite direction down the 
long old-fashioned street to the Jamesons' 


38 M^RGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

house. Certain guinea pigs of his were very 
much on his mind, and before entering the 
house he decided to seek out William, the 
Jamesons' man, and obtain the advice he 
needed. Accordingly, he turned into the 
driveway that skirted one side of the house 
and made his way back to the stable and 
garage. William was within and delighted to 
be consulted. 

“ Yas, Marster Sam," he finished his long 
and detailed directions, ‘‘ you do lak ah say. 
Guess you'll have a mighty fine ebening up 
at de house," he added. Dey's goin' ter hab 
a powahful fine pahty. Miss Polly shuah do 
know how ter entahtain. Miss Margery Mor- 
ris, an' anudder Miss Morris, and Marster 
Dick's alls there. Ah seed um when ah took 
in some wood foh de fiahplaces." 

Sam, who was a gregarious soul, and a 
staunch believer in parties, started off through 
the garden toward the house, anticipations 
high. As he drew near the side porch an in- 
spiration seized him. 

** Good," he chuckled. ** I'll do it if I can 

won't the girls squeal, though I I wonder 
if Dick's cousin is as pretty as Margery. We 


SAM APPEARS 39 

must show her, anyway, that Renwyck’s 
Town isn't such a slow place." He stopped 
and leaned against a post of the grape arbor 
in silent, convulsive enjoyment. 

Recovered somewhat, he stole up the porch 
steps and reconnoitered. He tried to peer 
into the library, the scene of so many happy 
evenings, for the Jamesons enjoyed nothing 
so much as gathering Polly's friends about 
them ; but the curtains had been drawn. 
Through the narrow crack left below the 
shade Sam could just make out a masculine 
coat-sleeve that seemed familiar. 

“Bully, there’s Dick," he whispered, as he 
cautiously picked his way over the snow-cov- 
ered porch, stepping high like a cat crossing a 
wet place. Having grown up with Polly 
and having run in and out of the house ever 
since he could remember, he knew that the 
side door was usually left unfastened. With 
infinite care he tried the handle, found that it 
gave, opened the door, and closed it softly be- 
hind him. Safely in the dim back hall he 
paused to listen ; from the library came the 
low hum of voices. 

“ My, but they sound serious," commented 


40 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

Sam to himself. Old Dick isn’t much at the 
society game. But I’ll stir them up I I’ll 
show them that I’m not a bump on a log, at 
any rate.” 

Rapidly and stealthily he tiptoed down the 
hall. Before the library door he stopped and, 
wrapping his long arms about himself, 
doubled up in another attack of silent, ex- 
pectant joy. Then, slipping off his overcoat, 
and draping it over his head, he dropped to 
all fours and butting open the door, he gal- 
loped into the room, barking like a dog. 

Silence. 

Sam stopped still and waited. Where were 
the little feminine shrieks, the hearty shouts 
of boyish laughter ? 

He barked again, more loudly this time, 
and pranced around in a circle. 

'' Well, Samuel,” came his father’s quiet 
voice, are these your company manners ? ” 

Sam’s heart stood still. Dragging his coat 
from his head, he scrambled to his feet to face 
the smiling vestrymen of St. Peter’s. 

At the same moment the door into the 
living-room opened, and Polly, her hat and 
coat still on, appeared. And worst of all, be- 


SAM APPEARS 41 

hind her were Margery and Dick, and Bunnie, 
who seemed to poor, mortified Sam of an 
overpowering beauty and splendor. 

“ What was all that barking ? ” asked Polly; 
her eyes traveling from Sam’s crimson face 
to those of the highly amused vestrymen. 

“I — well — I,” stammered Sam, “I — 
thought, well, I thought — I’d— well, I’d break 
the ice ! ” 

“ I think that you have, Samuel,” agreed 
his father. 


CHAPTER III 


THE WEE PARTY 

** What's the joke?" inquired Esther, just 
come in, of the hilarious group about the fire. 

'' Ask Sam," laughed Dick. 

Sam grinned sheepishly. It's too tragic a 
tale, Esther," he declared, ** for one so young 
and fair as yourself to be saddened by. Oh, 
hello," with evident relief, '' there’s Harry 
Richards I What are you doing in Ren- 
wyck's Town, Harry?" 

'' Rusticating," tranquilly answered the 
tall, dark boy who had just entered. 

Margery looked up at him with interest. 
As Harry was being educated away from 
Renwyck's Town at a fashionable boarding- 
school, and seldom spent any time at home, 
she had not met him before. Polly in speak- 
ing of him had dubbed him ‘‘ silly," but Mar- 
gery hastily decided that he was very good- 
looking, and that he had far more of an ‘‘air "- 
42 


THE WEE PARTT 43 

than had the other Renwyck’s Town boys. 
Perceiving her interest he crossed the room 
and sat down beside her. 

“So you are Miss Morris/' he began. 

Mother wrote me about your adventures." 

Margery flushed. I she stam- 

mered. 

There was a mild commotion in the front 
hall and pretty, fly-away Sally Watson came 
in with her brother Teddy and Billy Hedges. 

“Oh, hello, Harry," Sally hailed him, 
“ how is it that you are honoring Renwyck's 
Town with your presence ? " 

Harry laughed. ‘‘ Oh, I had a difference 
of opinion with the Prof, at school," he an- 
swered easily. Who's that girl over there?" 
he added to Margery, his glance falling on 
Bunnie talking vivaciously to Sam. '‘I 
never saw her before." 

“ That s Elizabeth Morris, Dick's cousin — 
they call her Bunnie. She just came here 
yesterday." 

Dick, who had been having an argument 
with Polly over the merits of a battered bull- 
dog belonging to a neighbor, joined them at 
that moment and Harry left to sit by Bunnie. 


44 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

Harry and your cousin seem to have be- 
come great friends/^ remarked Margery to 
Dick a few minutes later. 

Harry is a great success wid de ladies/' 
returned Dick somewhat drily. 

‘‘ Hoorah I ” exulted Polly in a sibilant 
stage whisper, the vestrymen are going now. 
We can begin our stunt. Sam, we shall need 
you, — and you, too. Mother." 

Mrs. Jameson laughed and put down her 
knitting. You had better explain, Polly, 
what this is to be." 

“ All right — I'll make the announcement. 
Ahem I Ladies and gentlemen," Polly pro- 
claimed, assuming the high sing-song voice 
of the local auctioneer, “ the cele-brated Em- 
pire Stock Com-pany will now give their 
famous per-formance of the Tamin' of the 
Shrew in Five Minutes, adapted from the 
dramer of Mr. Willyum Shakespeare. Come 
on, Margery and Dick." 

The celebrated Empire Stock Company 
withdrew into the library, and the doors were 
closed. 

“ What is keeping them ? What do you 
suppose they are up to ? " questioned Esther, 


THE WEE PARTT 45 

as shrieks of laughter, much running to and 
fro, and plaintive groans from Sam and Dick 
were heard. 

‘‘Let^s hurry them up/' suggested Billy 
Hedges, applauding violently and pointedly. 

‘‘ Anon I Anon ! " came Polly’s voice from 
the other side of the closed doors. 

They were opened at last, and the impatient 
audience was rewarded with the opening scene 
of a much abridged version of the Taming of 
the Shrew. To give the drama even a more 
classic touch than the original the actors all 
spoke in the best of brogues ; and Dick and 
Sam were the leading ladies, while Polly, Mrs. 
Jameson and Margery played the men’s parts. 
Dick, as Kate the Shrew, was lovely beyond 
words in an ancient purple silk of Mrs. Jame- 
son s. Mrs. Jameson, although plump, was 
short j Dick was tall and muscular. The dress 
had refused to meet across his broad chest, and 
had only been fastened around the waist by 
main force. The skirt came half-way up to 
his knees in front while the train dangled 
forlornly in the back between his heels. A 
blue and white checked sweeping cap gave a 
final touch of coquetry to the costume. Mar- 


46 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

gery, as Petruchio, had her identity disguised 
by a bright green ribbon necktie and a collar 
of Mr. Jameson’s many sizes too large for her. 

Just as Kate, repudiating Petruchio’s offer 
of marriage with all the ardor of a modern 
bachelor maid, had nearly capsized through 
inadvertently stepping backwards on his train, 
the door-bell rang and some one entered. 

Oh, there’s Miss Patty Kirk by ! ” cried 
Polly delightedly, forgetting that she was act- 
ing Kate’s father. I’m so glad you’ve 
come ! Oh, dear I Look what I’ve done I ” 

In her elation she had dropped the soap- 
bubble pipe she was pretending to smoke, and 
had broken it. 

Miss Patty smiled. Don’t let me inter- 
rupt you — I merely ran in to ask Mrs. 
Jameson to help me with this knitting. 
Dick, you are too pretty for words in that 
frock I ” 

She sat down on the sofa beside Bunnie 
and Harry, and the play went on to a trium- 
phant conclusion ; a finale that was achieved 
without Dick’s upsetting himself with his 
train, although he had numerous narrow es- 
capes. 


THE WEE PARTY 47 

Well, Dick,” chuckled Mr. Jameson as the 
actors joined the audience after the perform- 
ance, “I had no idea you were such an 
actress/’ 

“ I thought I should break my neck with 
this train,” grinned Dick, fanning himself 
with the sweeping cap. 

“ What shall we do now ? ” asked Polly. 
“ Charades ? ” 

1 11 play for you, Polly,” Miss Patty sug- 
gested, “ if you would like to dance.” 

The boys rushed to roll back rugs and push 
chairs and tables out of the way, and Miss 
Patty sat down at the piano. 

Miss Patty Kirkby, the rector’s niece, lived 
with her mother in a shabby little frame 
house near the Jamesons’, and eked out a very 
slender income by giving music lessons. Be- 
fore her aged grandmother had fallen and 
broken her hip, and Miss Patty had come back 
to Renwyck’s Town to take care of her, there 
had been stories of her musical triumphs and 
of the brilliant, happy life she led. Tales 
which Renwyck’s Town with Miss Patty be- 
fore its eyes, patient, hard-working, uncom- 
plaining, had already forgotten. Indeed, cer- 


48 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

tain ladies, contemporaries of hers, regarded it 
as rather an impertinence for any one whose 
life was so barren of all that made their lives 
worth while to them, to persist in remaining 
so pretty. 

Her young girl pupils, however, loved her, 
and awkward fingers chased each other up the 
piano in scales, or performed acrobatic feats 
in detested technical exercises, all the more 
agilely because of the inspiration of Miss 
Patty^s charm. 

To-night, in the soft glow of the piano 
lamp, she seemed so young, in spite of her 
graying hair, that Margery looked at her with 
a little pang of pity for her dull, self-sacrific- 
ing life, and resolved to practice her next les- 
son better than ever. 

A penny for your thoughts,'' said Harry 
Richards, as the dancing commenced and he 
claimed Margery for the first dance. 

Would you really like to know what I was 
thinking about? Well — it's too dire and 
dreadful a secret to tell you." 

Harry danced well, much better than the 
other Renwyck's Town boys, and Margery de- 
cided as he deftly guided her out into the 


THE WEE PARTY 49 

long dim hall that ho was decidedly an im- 
provement over the others. Dick she was 
fond of, but then, he was just Dick. 

‘‘ Renwyck's Town is a queer old hole, isn’t 
it ? A girl like you must find it mighty dull 
here.” 

Sentiments with which Margery would have 
heartily agreed a couple of months before, but 
which now she loyally denied. ‘‘No, in- 
deed, she declared. “ I love Renwyck’s 
Town.” 

Harry Richards raised his eyebrows. “ Of 
course,” he said, “ your grandfather has a fine 
old place. It’s the people here that make me 
tired. Everybody is related to everybody else, 
too — worse luck I Why, even Polly and I 
are third cousins — her father and my mother 
are second cousins.” 

Oh, but I love the people, too, — the boys 
and girls.” 

Harry deftly avoided a collision with Billy 
Hedges flying down the hall, apparently all 
knees and elbows. “ And they love you too,” 
he said pointedly, looking down with evident 
admiration at her blond curls and delicate, 
high-bred little face. 


50 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

Margery laughed. Polly had told her, she 
remembered, that Harry was “ silly.” Dick 
and Sam, and their funny natural ways 
seemed nicer, after all. 

The music stopped with a loud chord, and 
Dick came to ask Margery for the next dance. 

She was glad of the opportunity for a talk 
that a dance with Dick afforded. More than 
she admitted to herself she was interested in 
this new girl who had come in to take what 
was once, briefly, her place. 

How do you like your new cousin, now ? ” 
she asked as Dick put his arm around her 
waist and they glided off into a waltz. 

She's pretty ; and she's good fun, I im- 
agine. Look at Billy dancing! A grass- 
hopper having hysterics couldn't be more 
spry I Almost — but not quite, my son ! '' as 
Sam narrowly missed colliding with them. 

And how does Deborah like her?” went 
on Margery with a sudden little pang that 
she hoped was not jealousy. 

‘‘I don't know — ask Deborah. She'll be 
here pretty soon, I think. She went to a 
missionary meeting to-night, and she's to stop 
for us to take her home. There's Teddy 


THE WEE PARTY 51 

Watson signaling for the rest of this dance- 
come along, we’ll sneak out into the hall and 
give him the slip.” 

Miss Patty stopped to rest at last, and the 
dancers collapsed into the nearest chairs. Out- 
side in the quiet street there was the steady 
crunch, crunch of the snow on the pavement 
in front of the house and the sound of voices. 

“ There’s Deborah now,” said Dick. “ I hear 
her speaking. Who’s that with her, I won- 
der ? Oh,” as the front door opened, “ it’s 

Dr. Huston. Come along, Margery Miss 

Patty’s beginning again. Let’s dance this 
now, and you can talk to Deborah after- 
ward/’ 

They swung ofF into a one-step, and Margery 
could only wave her hand over Dick’s 
shoulder to the quaint little figure standing 
by the doorway eagerly watching the dancing. 
Deborah Davis, the housekeeper at the Mor- 
ris farm, was an especial favorite with all the 
young people, and Margery, far away from 
her mother, had come to depend on her sym- 
pathetic understanding and gentle guidance. 

It was not until the dancing was over and 
the boys were passing around the hot choco- 


52 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

late and sandwiches that Margery had a 
chance to talk to her. 

Oh, Deborah,'^ she began, sinking down 
on the sofa beside her, I have been meaning 
to come to see you to thank you for that de- 
licious jelly you sent us. Grandpapa liked it 
ever so much. How — how does it seem to 
have another girl at the farm ? '' she added 
somewhat hesitatingly with a glance at Bun- 
nie on the other side of the room, talking 
gayly and a little loudly to Harry and Billy 
Hedges. 

Deborah patted her on the knee. ** Well,’' 
she said with a smile, Bunnie is a pretty 
girl, and a lively one — I wish she wouldn’t 
say ' now I’m the kind of a person ’ so much 
— it sounds conceited. I think, though, that 
it will do her good to know some young girls 
like you and Esther and Polly.” 

''What’s that about Polly?” demanded 
that young lady, coming up with a plate of 
sandwiches in her hand. 

" Never mind — run away,” laughed Mar- 
gery, and Polly left them to go and talk to 
Dr. Huston. 

"Bunnie’s grandfather has taken a great 


THE WEE PARTT 53 

fancy to her,” went on Deborah. “ I wish he 
were as fond of Dick — I feel sorry for Dick 
sometimes. The boy’s heart is set on being 
an architect like his father ; and his grand- 
father wants to make a farmer out of him. I 
wish Mr. Morris would let him have a college 
course, at any rate, before he has to settle 
down here. But he says, ‘ no.’ However, I 
tell Dick not to despair yet. The fact is, if 
you are doing right it’s pretty nearly always 
too early to begin to despair. That’s one 
thing I always liked, when I had to study 
history in school, about that John Paul Jones. 
He didn’t give way to despair. I didn’t get 
much schooling, but I had one teacher who 
was fine. When we studied our history he 
could make us see that battle between the 
Boti HoTfiTiic EichctTd and the iScrcipis as plain 
as day. Why, I could see those ships right 
before me — there they were close together, 
and the sailors fighting hand to hand, and 
savagely ! And the captain of the big, fine 
new enemy ship calling to John Paul Jones 
on his poor, little old ship, ‘ Have you struck 
your colors yet ? ’ And Captain Jones shout- 
ing back, ‘ I haven’t begun to fight 1 ’ Many’s 


54 MARGERT morris, MASCOT 

the time when everything has seemed to be 
dead wrong, and I didn't see any hope any- 
wheres, that I've said to myself, ‘ I haven't 
begun to fight I ' And then I've gone ahead 
and won my battle just as John Paul Jones 
did his. How's your grandfather ? " she 
finished unexpectedly. 

Before Margery could answer Dr. Huston 
sat down on the sofa beside her. Well, 
Xantippe?" he remarked in his brusque way. 

The doctor's contention that Margery re- 
sembled Socrates' shrewish wife was a stand- 
ing joke between them. 

“ I haven't smashed the furniture or thrown 
the tongs at anybody since yesterday morn- 
ing," answered Margery virtuously; and the 
doctor pulled the curl nearest to him by way 
of retort. 

** Esther, your father has come for you," 
announced Mr. Jameson. He's waiting in 
the sleigh outside." 

Ten o’clock," said Deborah. ‘‘ I think that 
some of the rest of us had better go, too. We 
have a cold drive ahead of us, this wintry 
night." 

Oh, I wish everybody wouldn't go," 


THE WEE PARTT 55 

wailed Polly, as Sally declared that she, too, 
must leave, and there was a general move 
toward sorting out and putting on the collec- 
tion of overcoats and cloaks, muffs, scarfs, 
mittens and galoshes deposited in the front 
hall. 

“ Where did you leave the sleigh, Dick ? ” 
asked the doctor, as the party from the Morris 
faim, which, in spite of Deborah, was among 
the last to leave, trooped out of the front 
door. 

“ At Mike’s stable.” 

I thought so. Well, I’ll walk down the 
street with you and leave Miss Patty at her 
house on the way.” 

Margery and Polly, who had followed them 
to the doorway, stood watching the little pro- 
cession as it went down the snowy street ; 
Bunnie in front with Harry and Dick, and 
the doctor back of them with Deborah and 
Miss Patty on either arm. The moon shone 
through the bare branches of the trees and 
lighted the quaint old red-brick houses and 
the solitary sleigh jingling past. Margery 
slipped her arm through Polly’s and hopped 
up and down on the door-step to keep warm. 


56 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

“ ’Twas from Aunt Dinah’s quilting party 
I was seeing Nellie home,” she hummed. 
Then to Polly, “ Oh, isn’t the moonlight on 
the snow beautiful 1 ” 

Polly drew her in and closed the door. 
“ Brr,” she said with a shiver, “ it’s cold. I 
wish,” she added with an unusual senti- 
mentality induced by the moon, “ that some 
one would ‘ see ’ Miss Patty home for keeps, 
and marry her and give her a coach and four 
like Cinderella.” 

“ I imagine that just her freedom, and the 
power to go on with her music would be 
happiness enough for Miss Patty,” observed 
Mrs. Jameson. “She is so wonderfully pa- 
tient with that exacting, faultfinding old 
grandmother of hers. And always so cheer- 
ful I I wonder sometimes that she doesn’t 
give way to despair. Come closer to the fire, 
girls. I’m afraid you took cold standing there 
in the doorway.” 

“ Perhaps,” said Margery absently, her mind 
on Deborah and John Paul Jones, “ Miss 
Patty hasn’t begun to fight.” 

“ What ? ” said Polly. 


CHAPTER IV 


CALLS 

** Margery/^ Polly’s voice came over the 
telephone the next day, don’t you want to 
go out with me to Esther’s this afternoon ? ” 

Margery hesitated. It was snowing again, 
cold and blustery. Indoors there were blazing 
wood-fires, and one of her Christmas books 
still unread. Kiley, the cross old cook, had 
promised to allow her to make candy on the 
kitchen range. To-day, Kiley happened to 
be in a good humor; it might be weeks be- 
fore she had another such spell of sunny 
temper. 

** I — well ” Margery began. '' It’s snow- 

ing.” 

** I know it is, Chick-a-biddy. But it’s 
such fun to be out in a snow like this I 
And I’m going to take the sleigh — we have 
a little one that just holds two. Poor Esther 
67 


58 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

has her hands full with the youngsters I 
Mrs. Crowell is spending the week-end in the 
city, and Esther has to run the house,— and 
the family. All the children have colds, and 
poor Es has to stay in with them and keep 
them amused. I telephoned to her, and she 
says she’s nearly distracted. Do let’s go and 
help her I ” 

“ Well — perhaps.” 

“ Oh, yes, do. You can wrap up well, and 
you won't mind the cold at all. Really you 
won’t.” 

All right — I’ll go,” Margery agreed. 
“ How soon will you be here ? ” 

“ Right-away-quick.” 

Miss Tucker urged warm wraps, and Mr. 
Morris, an invalid himself and always ap- 
prehensive about the health of every one else, 
would not be satisfied until Margery had con- 
sented to put on, over the sweater and ulster 
she already wore, his motor-coat of rough 
shaggy fur. Mr. Morris was a large man, and 
Margery was only a slip of a girl ; the great 
coat fiapped about her heels when she walked, 
and the sleeves hung below her finger tips. 

“Oh, Miss Tucker,” she protested in a 


CALLS jjp 

whisper, giving her dark fur toque a vindic- 
tive jerk down over her eyebrows, “ I can’t 
go out looking like this ! I’m a freak 1 Be- 
sides, I’m cooked in all these things.” 

Miss Tucker was obdurate. “Better be a 
freak than to take cold. But you will get 
overheated if you stay in here. Go outside 
and walk up and down the veranda until 
Polly comes j and be thankful we’re not mak* 
ing you wear your grandfather’s galoshes. In 
fact, now that it’s mentioned, I think that you 
had better put them on, too.” 

With a grimace of horror, Margery half 
skipped, half waddled to the front door. 

It was such a singularly fat Margery that 
Polly found waiting for her when she drove 
up to the front door, that she burst into 
shrieks of laughter. Margery herself, sud- 
denly perceiving the humor of the situation, 
laughed so much that she could scarcely get 
into the sleigh ; and when Spy, the sedate old 
horse, turned his head and solemnly regarded 
her, both girls became almost hysterical. 

We II stop at Mrs. Finklestein’s as we go 
through town,” said Polly as they turned into 
the highroad, “ and get some lady-fingers for 


6o M^RGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

the children — I suppose they are as harmless 
as anything — and then we will stop at the 
Morris farm and show you off.” 

“ Not much,” Margery declared. “ If Dick 
caught sight of me looking like this, I’d never 
hear the end of it I But I’d like to see Deb- 
orah — and I suppose we ought to call on 
Bunnie.” 

“ Yes, we ought. You can slip off your 
lion-at-the-zoo coat before we go into the house 
and leave it in the sleigh.” 

Margery’s descent at the baker’s was the oc- 
casion of more laughter, and the startled 

Awk of the worthy Mrs. Finklestein when 
she appeared within the shop and demanded 
“ lady-fingers,” sent her off into uncontrolla- 
ble giggles. 

“ I bought a pound, as directed,” she told 
Polly as she climbed into the sleigh again, 
“ and some macaroons with little lambs made 
of icing on the top. They look like tomb- 
stones, but I suppose the children will like 
them.” 

With a sigh of contentment Margery settled 
back in the little sleigh and drew the fur rugi 
closer around her. It was great fun jingling' 


CALLS 


6i 

along the white roads through the snowflakes 
that danced and whirled about them, pelting 
in their faces and eddying into fence corners, 
where it piled and drifted. 

'*Oh, Polly, isn^t it pretty? Just like a 
Christmas card I ” she cried, as they turned 
in at the gate of the Morris farm, where Dick 
Ball and his little brother Benjamin lived 
with their grandfather and the old house- 
keeper, Deborah Davis. The pine-trees that 
bordered the long avenue leading to the hand- 
some old red-brick mansion were festooned 
with snow wreaths, and the wide lawn was an 
unbroken sheet of white. At the sound of the 
sleigh-bells a rabbit leaped from under the 
shelter of a low-hanging bough and scampered 
across the snow. 

'‘We'll drive right around to the stable," 
said Polly, " so that Spy needn't stand out in 
the cold." 

The wide doors of the stable porch were 
closed ; Margery jumped out to open them and 
was standing watching Polly drive in when 
Dick suddenly appeared. 

" Hello, polar bear," he grinned. " Going 
to a zoo- party. Marge ? I'm mighty glad yow 


62 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

girls havG coihg/^ Iig WGnt on bcforG MargGry 
could gGt in an obvious rotort. I'm mighty 
glad you'vG corns, " hs rspeatsd with such 
evident relief that Margery asked quickly : 

“ What's the matter ? " 

“ Oh, nothing." 

Margery was used to his taciturn ways, so 
she insisted, Oh, yes, there is something." 

''Oh, no — nothing. It's just that Bunnie 
is sitting round all bored to death — makes 
everybody feel rather blue." 

Why, I thought Bunnie liked it here." 

" She did at first. She was downright en- 
thusiastic. There never was such a place as 
Renwyck's Town — or such people as Ren- 
wyck Towners. But you see there isnT any- 
thing doing this afternoon, and it's dull and 
snowy, and she feels different. She says she's 
the kind of a person that likes something go- 
ing on. Some of the fellows were out this 
morning, but that only lasted until noon." 

All right, said Polly, helping Margery 
to slip off the fur coat, ‘' we'll try to restore 
Renwyck Town's lost prestige. Take the 
other sleeve, Dick, and tug." 

Benjamin ran out to meet them. "Mar- 


CALLS 63 

giel Margie !” be cried, excitedly. “Reggie 
Smedly ate some poison I “ 

“Gracious!” Margery exclaimed, with all 
the horror Benjamin could desire. 

“ But Reggie didn’t die,” he went on im- 
portantly, “ ’cause the doctor gave him an 
anecdote.” 

“An anecdote?” Margery looked to Dick 
for enlightenment. 

Dick shouted with laughter. “ He means 
an antidote ! Don’t try to use big words, Bud ; 
they’re apt to trip you.” 

“ Don’t you mean, Benjie, that the doctor 
gave him an artichoke ? ” Polly teased. “ Dick 
doesn’t know everything.” 

No, I mean anecdote,” Benjamin main- 
tained. “ Reggie said so.” 

“If Reggie the Oracle said it,” laughed 
Dick, “ it must be so.” 

Deborah was plainly very glad to see the 
girls and ushered them into the dining-room 
where she and Bunnie were sitting before a 
blazing wood-fire. “ We’re sitting here be- 
cause it’s the warmest room in the house. 
I’m so glad you’ve come,” she added in a 
whisper to Margery, giving her hand a 


64 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

gentle squeeze. Bunnie was getting rather 

Deborah was evidently rather weighed 
down by the responsibility of providing a 
restless and pretty young girl with amuse- 
ment. 

Bunnie greeted them with an eager cor- 
diality and vivacity that made Margery doubt 
if she was quite so desolate as she had been 
represented, but Polly shrewdly suspected 
that a far different expression had been 
turned to her family from the one which wel- 
comed them. 

Pm so sorry you didn^t come earlier,*' 
Bunnie exclaimed. I had a caller this 
morning — I'm the kind of a person that 
likes to have my friends around — a Mr. 
Carson." 

“Mr. Carson?" exclaimed Polly. “Why, 
he died last month ! Oh, you mean Johnny 
— Johnny Carson ? " 

“ Yes. He stayed all the morning. I 
simply couldn't drive him home." Bunnie's 
tone was complacent. Evidently she was one 
of a large class of young girls who believe not 
only in not hiding their social light under a, 


CALLS 


65 

bushel, but in setting it up on the tallest flag- 
pole they can command, and continually 
dwelling on their triumphs and their charms. 

Polly unfortunately did not realize that she 
was to be impressed. ‘‘ You poor thing,'' she 
said sympathetically. ‘‘Johnny's an awful 
pest. He will bore any girl to death that will 
allow him to." 

Polly's answer plainly did not please. 
Margery, sitting beside Benjamin on the sofa, 
wondered if it could be that Bunnie was not 
going to like Polly. Not to like Polly seemed 
to her as unnatural as for the brooks to run 
up-hill, or the sun to set in the east. 

Polly, all unconscious, chattered away 
happily, laughing with Dick and Deborah 
over Sam's entrance the night before, and 
Dick's trials with his long skirts. She was 
cordial in her invitation to Bunnie to squeeze 
into the little sleigh and accompany them to 
Esther Crowell's. But Bunnie declined rather 
coolly and turned to Margery. 

“ Dick told me that you were the nicest 
girl in Renwyck's Town," she said, ignoring 
Polly. ‘‘ You know it's funny about me — but 
I believe in telling people what other people 


66 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

say about them. And Dick said you are the 
prettiest, too.^^ 

Dick looked embarrassed. Oh, cut it out, 
Bunnie,” he murmured. 

Margery smiled a polite acknowledgment 
of the compliments, although her heart was 
hot within her. ‘‘She just did that to hurt 
Polly^s feelings,^' she thought indignantly. 
“ I think that^s a horrid way to act.^' 

“ Margie — tell me about the bear,^^ Ben- 
jamin’s voice broke in on her thoughts. 

“ All right, honey.’' Composing her face 
to a preternatural solemness, she recited in the 
sepulchral tone Benjamin found so enchant- 
ing: 

“ ‘ Benjie met a bear. 

The bear was bulge-y. 

The bulge was Ben-jie.^ 

Yes, Polly,” she added in her natural voice, 
“ I’m ready to go if you are.” 

“ Hurry, old dear,” Polly remarked to Spy 
as Dick helped her and Margery into the 
sleigh and unhitched for them. “ We must 
be at Esther’s soon, or she will think we 
aren’t coming. 

“ It’s funny about me,” she went on in im- 


CALLS 


67 

itation of Bunnie, but I'm the kind of a 
person who likes to get there." 

Margery laughed. I'm glad Dick's gone 
into the stable and can't hear you. Hurry, 
Spy I " 

Under the influence of the cold Spy be- 
came quite animated with a sedate, elderly 
kittenishness he seldom allowed himself, and 
covered the distance between the Morris and 
the Crowell farms in a surprisingly short 
time. 

What is that ? " cried Polly, as they drew 
near to the front door, and a small, dark ob- 
ject suddenly shot from the side of the house 
and whirled across the yard. 

Margery brushed away the snowflakes that 
would collect on her long thick eyelashes. 

It's some one coasting." 

I can't see a sled," demurred Polly, lean- 
ing forward the better to see. 

“ It's little Helen Crowell. What has the 
child got to coast on ? Oh, I see — it's a pie- 
pan ! " 

The girls laughed and beckoned to Helen, but 
her pie-plate and the ice were too attractive. 

Esther was waiting for them at the door. 


68 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

“ I heard the sleigh-bells/' she beamed. '' Oh, 
I'm so glad to see you. I was so lonely and 
blue. The poor children have to be kept in 
the house too, and that makes it so hard. 
They all have colds and are fretful. " 

We saw Helen coasting on a pie-pan." 

'‘Yes, isn't that the funniest idea? She 
thinks it's lots more exciting than a sled. 
The rain-gutter overflowed and then froze, so 
that there’s a perfectly solid sheet of ice from 
the sitting-room windows straight out over 
the yard. I suppose I oughtn't to let Helen 
be out there ; but the children play pretty 
well until she gets with them — and then 
there's Bedlam I " 

Esther looked at Margery's portly figure 
and laughed. “ You certainly are a picture 
of grace, Marge — there's something so digni- 
fied about the way it flaps about your heels. 
But," she went on, her dark eyes glowing 
with afiection, for Polly and Margery were 
perfect in Esther's opinion, “ you look so 
sweet in that little fur cap that it makes up 
for the coat. Come on up-stairs," as Margery 
slipped off the offending garment, and throw- 
ing it on a chair tossed her cap down on top 


CALLS 69 

of it, “ and I’ll show you the hat Mother and 
I made. Or, rather,— for that’s a case of 
Betsy and I killed the bear — that Mother 
made. I only designed it. We had lots of 
fun concocting it out of all the odds and ends. 
But really, I think .that it turned out pretty 
well— and I certainly did need a new hat.” 

She led the way up the stairs to the quaint 
little room she shared with a younger sister. 
“Sit down while I get it. I keep it in 
Mother’s room, for there isn’t room for even 
an extra bandbox in here.” 

Esther disappeared and the other girls sat 
down expectantly. They had come to enjoy 
Esther’s makeshifts and to find almost as 
much pride and pleasure in them as did Es- 
ther herself. Margery thought she knew no 
prettier room than the one Esther had 
evolved, with its plaited rugs of buff and blue, 
the work of many a long winter evening, its 
walls of soft buff which she had tinted herself, 
with the aid of one of her brothers, and the 
quaint chintz curtains and valances she had 
fashioned out of a remnant bought at a mid- 
winter^s sale. 

Here it is, ^ announced Esther, lugging in 


70 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

a huge old-fashioned bandbox covered with 
scenic wall-paper. 

There was a creaking in the hall, and a 
rumble, and a little boy seated on a toy ele- 
phant, which he laboriously propelled by dint 
of digging his heels into the carpet, passed the 
door. 

Jimmie,^^ called Esther, ** come here and 
see Polly and Margie, honey. Three-year-old 
Jimmie was her especial charge and pet. 

‘‘ Me doesnT wike ^em,^^ answered Jimmie 
calmly, continuing his tortuous progress. 

Esther was horrified. “ Oh, Jimmie dear 
—you mustnT say things like that I 

Polly intervened. Now, Esther, you know 
perfectly well that if you were having a lovely 
ride on a little toy elephant, you wouldn't 
^ wike ' a lot of tiresome girls either, ^e 
brought some cakes with us," she added in a 
louder voice. Nice little cakes for nice little 
boys who like us." 

There was a pause in the trundling of the 
elephant ; a silence evidently given over to 
reflection ; a murmured Me does wike 'em," 
and the patter of little feet. 

Concealing their amusement as best they 


CALLS 


71 

could the three girls affected to be entirely 
unconscious of the small figure that appeared 
at the door and sidled up to Margery, seated 
on the bed. 

“ Do show us that hat,'' urged Polly, with 
a smile at Esther. With a little grimace in 
return, Esther untied the bandbox and drew 
out a blue and white toque. 

It's really a little too delicate for anything 
but best," she explained as she put it on be- 
fore the mirror and wheeled around for in- 
spection. But it looks very well with my 
blue suit, and Mother lends me her ermine 
tippet to go with it." 

The little white ermine toque with its blue 
velvet crown and saucy white quills was very 
becoming set above Esther's dark eyes and 
glowing cheeks. " See," she said proudly, 
taking it off and passing it round for inspec- 
tion, "this ermine was on an old cloak in the 
garret that belonged to Grandmother Simpson, 
and this blue velvet was on a bonnet Aunt 
Molly had when she was a girl — we steamed 
it and I really think that it looks like new. 
And the feathers ? Well, don't ever breathe it 
to a soul I — I borrowed them from the white 


72 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

turkey. Such a time as I had chasing him I 
I wish, though,'' thoughtfully rubbing the 
fur, “ that this ermine wasn't quite so yellow 
— I'm afraid that people will think it's dirty. 
No, Jimmiekins — you can't put on sister's 
hat. Well — -just a minute. I'll hold it — 
don't put your hands on it I Oh, Jimmie 
dear, those dirty little paws right on the 
fur I " 

Margery knew nothing about the great law 
of compensation, but she realized rather wist- 
fully as she watched Esther glowing over her 
home-made little hat that if the other girl 
had never known the pleasure of having 
pretty, expensive things for the asking, she 
herself had never known the fun and satisfac- 
tion of making something out of nothing. 

Why so pensive, Margery Daw ? " asked 
Polly. Is it that the sight of Esther's won- 
drous fair bonnet has bewitched you ? * Speak, 
speak, thou fearful guest ! ' My goodness, 
Margery I How many cakes have you given 
that child ? " 

** I — I don't know," stammered Margery, 
worried. “ Three or four — I really wasn't 
noticing." 


CALLS 


73 

Never mind/' consoled Esther. I don't 
believe that many will hurt him — but he had 
better not have any more." She put the hat 
down carefully in the center of her queer 
little old-fashioned mahogany bed. Now 
we ought to go back and look after the chil- 
dren in the nursery." 

Arm in arm the three girls strolled back 
to the big nursery at the end of the house 
where Molly Crowell, a seven year replica 
of Esther, and her nine-year-old brother Tom, 
were rather streakily painting orange and 
green the clothes of some superlatively beauti- 
ful and athletic magazine ladies and gentle- 
men, and not quarreling in the process any 
more than was necessary. 

Peace almost seems to reign," whispered 
Esther. It takes Helen to stir things up 
and cause a rumpus." 

Margery sank down in the queer old chair, 
very low, and long in the rockers, that made 
her feel as though she were rocking on the 
back of her neck, and looked about the big 
room with its shabby furniture and battered 
paint. For all its shabbiness the room was 
warm and homelike. Every year relatives in 


74 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

England sent the Crowells the holiday num- 
bers of the Illustrated London News and the 
Graphic, and the gay colored supplements of 
these, pictures mainly of happy children and 
their pets, had been tacked up in a frieze 
around the walls ; shelves held the children's 
books and collections of birds' eggs ; with the 
coals glowing in the open Franklin stove, and 
the snow pelting a reminder against the win- 
dows of how wintry it was out-of-doors, Mar- 
gery felt it to be very cozy indeed. 

** Yes, it is a dear old room," Esther said in 
answer to a remark on the subject. A good 
many children, first and last, have been happy 
in it. It was the nursery away back in great- 
grandfather's time. Jimmie ought to be in 
here now, I'm thinking, instead of playing in 
those draughty halls. Jimmie," she called, 
going to the door, '' Jimmie dear I " 

There was no answer and Esther turned to 
Margery. The little rascal is hiding. Come 
on, Margie, and help me find him — and then 
we'll go down to the pantry and see if 
there is anything to eat there. Come on, 
Polly." 

'‘And bring us some bread and butter 


CALLS 


7S 

and sugar/' suggested Molly. “And, sister, 
spread it as though you were spreading it for 
yourself." 

“ A nice reputation she's giving you, Es- 
ther," laughed Polly. “ Molly and Tom, you 
dreadful children, you have eaten all those 
cakes we brought you, already I " Molly and 
Tom nodded cheerfully ; what were cakes for, 
but to be eaten? “You rascals I Well, as 
punishment, I'm going to stay up here and 
help you paint this magazine lady purple and 
green. Go on, Esther, and get your bread and 
butter." 

“ Well," said Esther, after a search had 
failed to disclose the missing Jimmie, “ he 
isn't here — perhaps he's down-stairs with 
Martha." 

Laughing and chatting the two girls passed 
down the hall. “Don't you come in here, 
please, sister," came a small voice behind a 
partially closed door. “ I'm making a s'prise 
for you, sister — a lubby s'prise I I'm washing 
your new hat." 

With a shriek, Esther threw open the door, 
and disclosed Jimmie seated on the bathroom 
floor, the precious new hat balanced on his fat 


76 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

knees, and a dripping nail-brush in his hand. 
Beside him stood a tumbler of soapy water 
and a box of tooth powder. 

With another shriek, Esther clutched at the 
hat. Holding it aloft, she anxiously inspected 
it, turning it this way and that. 

Oh, Jimmie,” she cried. You naughty 
little boy ! Sister's lovely new hat I ” 

Jimmie frowned. “ You didn't ought to 
come in, sister,” he protested. ” I was doin’ 
it for a s’prise I You said the fur was all 
dirty, sister, an’ I was washing it for you.” 

“ It certainly would have been a ‘s’prise,’ ” 
Esther admitted, not knowing whether to 
laugh or to scold. With one hand she gave 
the rescued head-gear to Margery ; with the 
other she yanked the well-meaning Jimmie to 
his feet. 

” I was going to soap your hat first,” Jim- 
mie explained with an air of conscious virtue, 
” an’ — an’ then I was going to pour lots an’ 
lots of water over it — the way you wash my 
hair — an’ then it would have been all beauti- 
ful, sister. An’ you corned and spoiled the 
s’prise,” he finished indignantly. 

“ Here, Margery, hold him while I put this 


CALLS 


77 

poor hat away in Mother^s cupboard before 
anything else happens to it/' 

Margery seized the culprit's hand ; Jimmie, 
deprived of his liberty, burst into howls 
of grief and resentment, and capered and 
pranced in an effort to break loose. 

''Jimmie! Jimmie!" implored his dis- 
tracted sister. Do keep quiet, child. In a 
minute we'll go down-stairs and get you some 
bread and butter and sugar." 

Jimmie stopped roaring, although plainly 
still suspicious of the two spoil-sports. 

" Esther, what's that noise ? " asked Mar- 
gery as they reached the top of the stairs. 

They stopped and listened. From the hall 
below came a muffled sound of strangling. 
For a moment Esther stared at Margery, eyes 
dilated with horror ; then she ran swiftly 
down into the dim hall below. Deserting 
Jimmie, Margery ran after her, the blood surg- 
ing into her heart. At the foot of the stairs 
a huddled form lay choking and gasping. 

" Helen, the croup ! " gasped Esther, gath- 
ering the little sister into her arms. " Get 
Martha — she'll know what to do." 

With feet that fairly flew, although they 


78 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

seemed to her like lead, Margery rushed into 
the kitchen where old Martha, the Crowells^ 
cook, housemaid, laundress, and general ad- 
viser and critic, was ironing a centerpiece. 

** Martha, ’’ she gasped, “ Helen’s dying with 
the croup.” 

Martha carefully tested her iron and put 
it down. No more than I expected, with 
Esther lettin’ her out in this snow-storm,” 
she grumbled, '' with nothin’ between her an’ 
the cold ground but one of me pie-pans. 
Here — you get that little alcohol stove in the 
pantry, and take up this here kettle of hot 
water, too. An’ wait a minute till I get some 
mustard — I’m cornin’ with you. Get me a 
teacup an’ a spoon. Come on.” 

In spite of her grumbling, Martha had rap- 
idly collected the things needed, and followed 
by Margery with the steaming teakettle, she 
hurried through the house as fast as her 
rheumatism would let her to Mrs. Crowell’s 
room, where Esther had already carried the 
sufferer. 

Now, Esther, don’t take on,” commanded 
Martha. “ Helen’s had these attacks before. 
Help Margery to light that stove. Put the 


CALLS 


79 

kettle on it. Pour me out a cup of water. 
Make Helen swallow this. Bring the bottle 
that's on the lower right hand corner of your 
mother's medicine closet — the second from 
the front. Turn the hot water on in the 
bath tub. Send Jimmie into the nursery — 
he'll be sick next. Hurry and finish undress- 
ing Helen." 

Margery and Esther flew to obey her ex- 
perienced directions, and before long the 
dreadful paroxysms were lessened, the ag- 
onized battle for breath grew easier. 

Leaning over the bed and gently crooning, 
" Rock-a-bye baby," Martha motioned toward 
the door. “ You two girls go back to the 
nursery," she whispered, ** an' look after the 
other children. I'm going to wrap Helen up 
well in the quilt, an' then try to rock her to 
sleep. Draw the big rocker nearer, Esther, 
please." 

Silently the two girls tiptoed out of the 
room, and went back to the nursery, where 
they interrupted a glorious game of Indians. 

“ Where have you been ? " asked Polly, 
with remarkable composure considering the 
fact that she was in the very act of being 


8o MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

scalped by an Indian brave. We^ve painted 
a dozen beautiful ladies and gentlemen, and 
acted Uncle Tom's Cabin. Jimmie says you 
spoiled his lovely ‘s'prise.' ” 

Esther and Margery looked at each other. 
Jimmie and the hat seemed, after their recent 
fright about Helen, like something that might 
have happened long ago in some other state 
of existence. Then hysterical with anxiety 
and relief, they burst into shrieks of laughter. 

Esther accompanied Polly and Margery to 
the door when they left. I'm so sorry, 
Margery," she apologized, ** that all this 
should have happened while you were here — 
I'm afraid you won't want to come again." 
Martha came down the hall behind them. 
Now, Esther," she remonstrated, “ don't you 
take on. It's good knowledge for Margery to 
have — some day she may be glad she's seen a 
case of croup. You can't have any waffles for 
supper — I'm too tired with this here mix-up." 


CHAPTER V 


IN THE CITY 

** Oh, dear, I wish Miss Tucker were back,*' 
sighed Margery dismally, tossing her school 
books on the bed and collapsing on top of 
them, her hat and coat still on. I’d get her 
to give me something for this old cold. I’m 
so tired. I’m sick of school — I hate it ! ” 

She rolled over on her back, to the con- 
siderable damage of her hat, and lay staring 
at the ceiling, her arms outstretched and her 
feet trailing forlornly over the edge of the 
bed. I wonder if I can ever get up,” she 
murmured. '' I wish Miss Tucker were 
back I ” 

Miss Tucker had left to nurse a former 
patient who had had a bad accident. Mar- 
gery missed her, in spite of the fact that Miss 
Tucker had most stern and rigid ideas on the 
subject of young people going to bed early, 
and was inflexible on the point of candy. 

The luncheon bell rang softly down-stairs ; 

81 


82 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

Margery remained sprawled out on the bed 
disregarding it. Miss Margery/' said the 
maid who appeared at the door, '‘luncheon's 
ready, and your grandfather's waitin'." 

Margery sat up. “ Oh, Sarah— I'm so tired. 
I can't go down." 

" It's just hungry ye are. Folks get faint 
wid hunger. Wait until ye've had a good 
plate of hot soup, thin it's different intirely 
ye'll be feelin'. An' I wasn't ter tell ye — but 
Kiley's made a little ice-cream for a surprise. 
Oh, Miss Margery — yer pretty hat I" 

Sarah kindly straightened out the hat and 
hung away the rumpled coat, while Margery 
dragged herself down to luncheon. 

After a cup of hot chicken broth, Margery 
did indeed feel better, and was able to answer 
with some degree of animation her grandfa- 
ther's questions about school. 

" I wonder," her grandfather smiled, as she 
finished a plaintive tale of her struggles with 
her Latin, " if Csesar had known what misery 
he was to bring on countless generations of 
school children whether he would have had 
the heart to go on with that campaign." 

Although luncheon had revived her some- 


IN THE CITT 


83 

what, Margery was not sorry that a heavy 
rain set in ; she had promised to spend the 
afternoon with Polly, but she felt too listless 
for even her congenial society. 

I'll telephone her that it's raining too 
hard for me to go," she decided. 

Polly's answer to her excuses sounded un- 
necessarily cheerful, she thought. Margery, 
her knees feeling as though they were made 
of paper like a Japanese doll's, and her head 
as heavy as a cannon-ball, at once felt injured. 

No," she answered firmly, I can't come in 
the car — I don't like to take it out in the 
rain." 

Polly, at the other end of the wire, giggled. 

Are you afraid that its complexion will wash 
off like Miss Marcia Bernstein's ? " 

Margery hung up the receiver without 
deigning a retort. 

In the library she searched for a book, and 
stumbled on a worn volume with The 
Wide, Wide World " printed on its back in 
faded gilt letters. Inside in faint brown ink 
a name was written. Oh," she exclaimed, 
" this must have been Grandmamma's when 
she was a girl." 


84 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

She turned to ask her grandfather if she 
might take it ; he was asleep by the fire with 
his handkerchief spread over his face, so, tuck- 
ing the book under her arm, she retreated to 
her room, where she curled up on the win- 
dow-seat to read. The rain beat drearily 
against the glass ; the wind howled fitfully in 
the chimney. Her book, with its fine sprin- 
kling of funerals, and its perseveringly dismal 
heroine, was even more cheerless than the 
weather ; as the rain beat harder and the 
wind wailed louder, and her headache grew 
worse, Margery ^s self-control was all that 
saved her from rivaling the lugubrious Ellen 
and bursting into tears at every page. 

“ Here’s Walter come with the mail, an’ a 
letter fer you, Miss Margery. Maybe it will 
make yez feel more chipper-like.” The kind- 
hearted Sarah looked thoughtfully at Margery 
huddled up on the window-seat. ''Maybe it’s 
yer mother ye’re wantin’. But never fear, the 
first of June will be here before yez know it 
— an’ yer mother with it. Would ye like me 
ter build a fire on the grate here ? An’ I have 
an idea Kiley has some cake in the cake-box 
— shall I find out fer yez? ” 


IN THE CITT 


85 

‘‘ Oh, would you, Sarah ? ” Margery held 
out her hand for the letter. Oh, goody,’' 
she exclaimed, as she recognized the writing 
to be that of a much-loved friend of her 
mother’s, it’s from Aunt Kate I ” 

With eager fingers she tore open the en- 
velope. Dearest Margie,” she read, ** this is 
not a letter — just a hasty scrabble to tell you 
that Katherine and I have come East some- 
what unexpectedly, and are now in Phila- 
delphia, visiting a dear old auntie of mine. 
From here we expect to go to Washington for 
a month, and then on down to Florida. Now 
then, I want you to come up to the city on 
Saturday, take luncheon with me here at my 
aunt’s — then we will go to the matinee and 
have a regular spree together I I had a letter 
from your dear mother yesterday — needless to 
say her mind and heart are very much on her 

far-away little daughter ” 

Her aches and pains forgotten, Margery 
flew down the stairs to the library. ** Grand- 
papa — mayn’t I go ? Please say yes I ” 

“ Go where, child ? ” 

With Aunt Kate.” 

Seeing the letter in her hand, Mr. Morris 


86 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

took it, put on his glasses and with exasperat- 
ing slowness read it to the end. Yes,'’ he 
said, folding it up, ‘'you may go — it will be a 
pleasant experience for you. You will have 
to take Sarah, as, of course, I am not equal to 
the trip. There's a time-table in the desk 
there — look up the trains, and let Mrs. Endi- 
cott know at once.” 

The three days before Saturday were trying 
days. Margery grew more and more tired 
and her bones ached wearily ; but she in- 
dignantly repudiated Polly's suggestion that 
she go to the doctor. 

” There's nothing the matter with me at 
all,” she declared. “It's just that I need 
some fun — something besides these old les- 
sons.” 

Polly shook her head doubtfully, but held 
her peace. 

Saturday morning came at last, and she 
and Sarah started oif ; Margery in her 
best blue suit and velvet hat, and Sarah 
resplendent in a purple bonnet with awe- 
inspiring bunches of black jet rising from its 
apex. 

They had some difficulty in finding the 


IN THE CITT 


87 

house when they reached the city, and both 
were tired and hungry before they finally 
discovered it. Under the strength of her own 
resolves and the happy, simple life she was 
leading, Margery had largely discarded old 
faults of petulance and discontent ; but to- 
day, under the influence of excitement and 
the fact that she was really far from well, she 
snapped at Sarah until that patient individ- 
ual declared : 

“ It’s somebody else ye’ll have to be after 
getting ter take yez to the city next time. Miss 
Margery.” 

The house of Mrs. Endicott’s aunt was a 
sedate, old-fashioned one of red brick with a 
white Colonial doorway, and those inevitable 
white marble steps, the perpetual scrubbing 
of which visitors to Philadelphia find so 
amusing. Its red-brick, white-stepped neigh- 
bors [and the street on which they stood all 
had the same air of settled self-complacency 
and serene dignity. Across the street a high 
brick wall of soft faded red enclosed a group 
of stately old buildings. 

What’s that over there, Sarah?” asked 
Margery, with a nod toward the wall, as she 


88 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

pulled the old-fashioned door-bell below the 
engraved silver name-plate. 

“ Horspital,” stated Sarah, still offended, her 
nose in the air. 

The door opened and Sarah, finding that 
Mrs. Endicott truly was staying within and 
that all was well, left Margery and started oft 
to spend the day with her sister. 

“ Wait a minute,” exclaimed Margery to 
the astonished butler, and dashed down the 
steps and along the street, calling : 

“ Sarah ! Sarah ! ” 

Sarah turned. “ Yes, Miss Margery ? ” 

“ Sarah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so 
cross.” 

Sarah folded her hands over the neat hand- 
bag she carried and tried in vain to look still of- 
fended. “ Oh, go long wid ye,” she grumbled. 

Feeling better satisfied, Margery ran up the 
steps again, and was ushered into a stately, 
old-fashioned parlor, long and narrow, and 
filled with the heavy, depressing walnut 
furniture of the mid-Victorian era. 

There was the soft rustle of skirts, a light 
footfall, and Mrs. Endicott, as young and as 
pretty as though she had no tall, grown-up 



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IN THE CITT 89 

daughter to call attention to her years, stood 
in the doorway. 

Margery, dear child 1 I am so glad to see 
you. Did I tell you I had a letter from your 
mother this week ? I’m so glad that I’ll be 
able to report that I’ve seen you.” Slipping 
her arm through Margery’s, Mrs. Endicott 
led her up the stairs to a big sunny room ex- 
tending across the front of the house. 

“ Here we are, Auntie,” she announced to 
an old, very much wrinkled lady sitting by 
the window. This is my aunt, Margery — 
Mrs. Russell. I’m so sorry, dear, that Kather- 
ine won’t be here. She has gone to a lunch- 
eon and theatre-party — she’s really having 
quite a gay visit.” 

Margery curtsied to the old lady, who ex- 
tended two fingers to her with a children 
should be seen and not heard ” expression 
that was disconcerting. Hum,” she said, 
looking at Margery through the eye-glasses 
holding a precarious place on her extremely 
aquiline nose. “ Long lashes and red cheeks 
— signs of weak eyes and tuberculosis.” 

Margery’s cheeks grew redder still with em- 
barrassment and a wild desire to laugh. Mrs. 


90 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

Endicott kindly led her away to take off her 
hat and coat before the old lady had time to 
make any more disconcerting remarks. 

Auntie is very old” she explained, sitting 
down by the dressing table and watching 
Margery straighten out her hair-ribbon before 
the glass. ‘'But she is wonderful for all her 
eighty-seven years — a mind many a younger 
person might be proud of. That ribbon's just 
right — don’t touch it any more or you’ll spoil 
the effect. You are looking well, child — I 
believe the country air and the change are 
doing you good.” 

A touch of fever and Mrs. Russell’s remark 
had indeed given Margery a most brilliant 
color. Later in the day Mrs. Endicott was to 
be not so well satisfied. 

Before they went back to the sitting-room, 
Mrs. Endicott had many questions to ask : 
was Margery happy in her new surroundings? 
— did she like her school and her school- 
mates? — was her grandfather better? The 
first excitement over, Margery felt strangely 
tired and faint, and answered the questions 
listlessly in spite of a strained effort to appear 
cheerful. 


91 


IN THE CITT 

“ I do hope luncheon will be ready soon/* 
she thought to herself as she sank down on a 
low chair. “ Maybe Vll feel better then— it^s 
been ages since breakfast. Yes, Aunt Kate,'* 
she said aloud in answer to another of Mrs. 
Endicott's questions, “ I do have to study 
pretty hard." 

I hope you aren't studying too hard — 
your eyes look a little heavy, dear. Now 
suppose we go in to luncheon." 

Unused to old Philadelphia houses, it 
seemed very amusing to Margery to have the 
dining-room on the second floor and every- 
thing brought up from the kitchen on a dumb- 
waiter. She wondered whimsically if the 
whole house were topsy-turvy, and if the attic 
was in the basement and the coal-cellar was on 
the roof. Mrs. Russell, finding that Margery's 
lungs were perfectly healthy, and that she was 
not related to any of the old Philadelphia fam- 
ilies with which she herself was connected, 
took no more interest in her, and ate her 
luncheon with single-minded absorption. 

Mrs. Endicott and Margery were a little 
late in finishing luncheon and leaving the 
house, and the curtain had gone up as they 


92 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

reached the theatre and took their places. 
The play itself was of the type lately so popu- 
lar, in which an angelic child enters a village 
or small town and by the aid of a few catch 
words leads its entire population, including 
its most hardened sinner, to happiness and 
success. Ordinarily, Margery would have 
seen the absurdities of the play, but to-day, 
really ill and made homesick by the presence 
of Mrs. Endicott, and also carried away by 
the beauty of the production and the excel- 
lence of the acting, she wept with an abandon 
only equaled by the fat man in a box who 
flourished his handkerchief alternately be- 
tween his streaming eyes and the top of his 
bald head. 

The first act was quite normal and even 
had gleams of humor, for the heroine had 
not yet gone into the reforming business, and 
the grown-ups, all unconscious of the fate 
hanging over them, were natural and amus- 
ing. In the second act the young reformer 
had begun her work, and everybody was 
being changed all round; even the cross 
gentleman of the story. He was so delighted 
with the results of being reformed that he at 


IN THE CITT 93 

once made the angelic heroine his heiress, 
after the pleasing fashion of middle-aged 
bachelors in plays and stories — and nowhere 
else. Only the pretty young lady, who wore 
the most bewitching of frocks, and who was 
supposed to be middle-aged, although she did 
not look it, and who was also secretly and 
hopelessly in love with the cross gentleman 
who had changed his nature — of course, she 
did not tell anybody about it, except the 
audience — remained implacable. She simply 
refused to be reformed. The audience didn’t 
know what to do about her ; it could not 
help admiring her because she was so pretty, 
and feeling sorry for her, too ; and yet it had 
a natural horror of any one so ungrateful as 
to refuse so excellent a chance to be reformed. 
Just as it had decided that it really must dis- 
approve of her, the heroine was deprived of 
her powers of locomotion. (Here Margery 
and the fat man outdid each other in weep- 
ing.) The pretty lady felt so sorry that she 
reformed just as quick as a wink and the 
audience with a long sigh of relief realized 
that she had wanted to all along, only pride 
wouldn’t let her. 


94 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

The last act was a mixture of sadness and 
happiness. After several harrowing episodes, 
a shock to her nerves enabled the heroine to 
walk again. Before the curtain went down 
she had once more brought happiness to 
everybody, even to the pretty lady and the 
once-cross gentleman, the latter fortunately 
having suddenly realized that he had been in 
love with the pretty lady for years and years. 

During the performance Mrs. Endicott had 
watched Margery anxiously, seeing in her 
tears far more than the emotions aroused by 
the play. As they went out of the theatre 
with the slowly moving throng, she met an 
acquaintance, and Margery heard her say 
something about an old man, and invalid. 
Dreary, and not very wholesome atmosphere, 
I am afraid. 

Margery wondered vaguely what she meant, 
but her head was feeling too heavy for her to 
care. 

''Just time for tea,^' said Mrs. Endicott with 
a glance at the big clock on the city hall 
tower. She led the way through some slowly 
revolving doors, down a long luxurious cor- 
ridor where was assembled a sprinkling of men 


95 


IN THE CITT 

and many women, to a famous tea-room. 
The orchestra was playing a melancholy air, 
and as Margery took her place at the little 
table and slipped off her furs, her eyes again 
filled with tears ; a fact which Mrs. Endicott 
was quick to notice. In her eagerness to be 
cheering she promptly ordered a particularly 
indigestible and delicious concoction of ice- 
cream and pastry for her guest. Just as they 
were finishing their ices Katherine with an- 
other girl and two young men came in, and 
catching sight of Mrs. Endicott and Margery 
joined them. Katherine Endicott was even 
prettier than her mother, and Margery looked 
up to her with all the reverence a younger 
girl has for one who has reached the real, 
grown-up young lady stage. 

“ Well, honey bunch,'' said Katherine 
affectionately, sitting down beside Margery, 
how is the world treating you ? " Then 
noticing with surprise her heavy eyes kindly 
did not wait for an answer, but plunged 
into an amusing description of the luncheon 
and theatre party she had been attending. 
The young man with the very turned-up nose 
and twinkly blue eyes joined in with so 


96 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

comical an account of the leading lady^s 
vicissitudes that Margery laughed the first 
spontaneous laugh she had been able to 
achieve all day. 

“ That's all very well — you can laugh," de- 
clared the young man in a stage whisper. 

But it really was very sad, I assure you." 

According to appointment Sarah was wait- 
ing at the door as they came out. With a 
kiss and a long searching look, Mrs. Endicott 
said good-bye to Margery. 

“ Keep up your courage, dear," she urged, 
“ and don't get too blue. Something pleasant 
will turn up — if I have to make it." 


CHAPTER VI 


LA GRIPPE 

The church bell of old St. Peter^s stopped 
ringing with a final clang just as Polly, some- 
what breathless, slipped into her place be- 
tween her father and mother. Across the 
aisle, Dick and Bunnie and little Benjamin 
had already taken their seats, Dick wearing 
that peculiar, preternaturally solemn expres- 
sion he assumed at no other time and place 
than on Sunday and in church. Polly passed 
over him with a quick, amused glance to the 
big pew nearer the front of the church where 
Margery usually sat. It was empty. 

“ Poor Margie,^* thought Polly as the choir 
came in and she stood up for the opening 
hymn. ** I hope that she isn^t ill.^^ 

Meanwhile, Dr. Huston was standing at the 
foot of Margery’s bed, somewhat serious under 
his brusque, jovial manner. 

97 


98 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

‘‘ Well, young woman,” he demanded, 
what does this mean ? I thought you had 
more sense than to go and get the grippe ? ” 

Margery smiled wanly, but did not feel 
equal to an answer. 

“ It^s not a dangerous attack,” the doctor 
told Sarah, anxiously detaining him outside 
of Margery's door. Her youth and health 
are a great point in her favor. I am glad she 
has you to look after her — I’ll send a nurse 
just as soon as I can get hold of one. It’s too 
bad that Miss Tucker is away.” 

Margery was not critically ill, but her re- 
covery was long and tedious. Her bones 
ached intolerably, and her head throbbed ; 
there were weary, endless days when her hands 
seemed to swell up into enormous puffy pillows 
and she herself to shrink away into nothing 
but a miserable atom floating through space, 
only to have her hands change suddenly into 
the merest pin-points, while her head grew 
larger than the bed and intolerably heavy. 
The outside world failed to interest her in the 
least, and she looked with indifference and 
weariness at the flowers and dainties sent to 
her. All that she asked was that somebody 


LA GRIPPE 


99 

would force the giant who seemed to be crush- 
ing her bones in his cruel grip to stop and let 
her rest. 

At last the day came when the aching al- 
most ceased, and she was able to be propped 
up among the pillows; after that she began 
slowly but surely to get well. Her conva- 
lescence, tedious as it was at times, was also 
a happy one, and in after years she often 
looked back at it with pleasure. Her grand- 
father could not be persuaded that anything 
was too good for her, and was full of the hap- 
piest thoughts for her comfort and amusement. 
The nurse the doctor had sent was efficient 
and able, but she was neither young nor en- 
tertaining; Margery was glad when Miss 
Tucker, like a burst of spring sunshine, came 
back and took charge. Both for her sake and 
their own, the doctor forbade visitors ; but as 
she grew better the telephone with its long 
extension cord was moved into her room. 
Polly telephoned faithfully every day, and re- 
ported all that was going on among the boys 
and girls of Renwyck’s Town ; the sudden 
popularity of Bunnie and its gradual decline ; 
the illness of Esther's mother, and Esther's 


loo MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

struggles with the little brothers and sisters in 
her care ; Sally Watson’s startlingly high 
mark in a history examination, and Dick’s 
low one. Deborah sent delightful little 
baskets packed with surprises in the form of 
custards and jellies. 

On the fourteenth of February Margery was 
fairly snowed under with valentines ; artistic 
ones, sentimental ones, comic ones, and clever, 
home-made ones which she valued most of 
all. • 

Now and then, Polly would leave a pile of 
books at the door ; it would have appeared a 
strange mixture from any one but Polly ; 

Stalky and Co.,” Cranford,” and the Red 
Fairy Book.” Margery, with equal adaptabil- 
ity of mind, thrilled over the schoolboy 
scrapes of Stalky and his fellow imps, laughed 
over the good ladies of Cranford and the cos- 
tume they devised for Miss Betsy’s cow, and 
loved the old, old fairy tales, heritage of an 
age when people were wise enough to believe 
in fairies and happy enough to see them. 

But mainly she lay watching the boughs of 
the giant old cherry-tree outside her window. 
Never having been a particularly observing 


LA GRIPPE 


lOI 


person the close knowledge of the tree was a 
revelation to her. She grew to love those 
cherry boughs and their ever changing as- 
pects ; now black against a deep blue evening 
sky, now white with snow, now silvery and 
cold in ^the winter moonlight. The winter 
birds rested there; slate-colored j uncos with 
their snowy breasts and quaint, sweet lisp, 
cheery black-capped chickadees, and now and 
then a little black and white downy wood- 
pecker with its scarlet-tipped head. One 
morning Miss Tucker leaned out of the win- 
dow, and tied a great lump of suet to the 
nearest branch that the birds might have the 
food they could not scratch from the frozen 
ground or pick from the snow-covered bushes. 

Miss Tucker was a constant enjoyment. 
She had come back to the White House Farm 
engaged to a young medical missionary with 
whom, after her marriage in June, she was to 
go out to China. Margery was never tired of 
hearing about '' him,’' and of the wonderful 
helpful life he and Miss Tucker were plan- 
ning to have together. She took an immense 
interest in every detail of the wedding and de- 
signed a trousseau that would have been more 


102 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

suitable for a princess than for Miss Tucker's 
simple needs. 

As Margery lay watching the brown boughs 
of the cherry tree and listening to Miss 
Tucker's dreams of what she was going to do 
to make the world a better and happier place, 
her own mind began to float out on the great 
mysterious sea of the future. 

Miss Tucker," she said one afternoon, 
raising herself on her elbow, " I wish I could 
be a missionary, too." 

“ Dear me," replied Miss Tucker, somewhat 
inadequately. 

" Yes, I've been thinking lots since I've 
been ill — and I don't want to be just a nobody, 
and not do anything but have a good time. I 
don't want to be just a frivol — I want to do 
something for the world, like you." 

Miss Tucker was sympathetic. She guessed 
how much of Margery's sudden resolution was 
due to the romantic longings of youth, but 
she also knew that under Margery's nonsense 
and whims there was real capability and 
strength of purpose. She knew, too, some- 
thing of the quiet good Margery's grandfather 
did in the world, so unostentatiously, so sim- 


LA GRIPPE 


103 

ply ; and thought it only natural that Mar- 
gery should have inherited his spirit. 

‘‘You have wonderful opportunities for do- 
ing good — simply wonderful. Fate has given 
you so much — youth and strength, a family 
and friends to aid you, and the means with 
which to do it.^' 

Margery sighed. “ You mean do charity 
work, and go and live in the slums? I wish 
I liked going into poor people^s houses better. 
Besides, Papa doesn't like me to do it — he's 
always so afraid I'll bring home some dis- 
ease." 

“ You're rather too young to do much charity 
work yet — the day has gone by when any 
nice, kind lady can rush into people's houses 
and ask a few questions and donate a few cans 
of soup, and then feel that her whole duty is 
done. Charity is a science in itself in these 
days." 

“ I wish I had some talent — I can't do a 
thing but sing and play — and my voice isn't 
big enough to sing anywhere but at home. 
Now, Polly is going to college, and write — 
and things like that, you know. And Esther 
is going to be a trained nurse, like you. Miss 


104 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

Tucker — she^d be awfully pretty in a uniform. 
And Dick wants to be an architect, if his 
grandfather will let him, and Sam is going in 
the navy.^^ 

And what is Bunnie going to be ? 

I don’t know. She said one day that 
she would like to be an actress, or a little 
sister of the poor, or else get married and run 
a ranch. You see, Miss Tucker, everybody is 
to have a career but me.” 

“ That will probably come later — there’s no 
reason why you shouldn’t have a career if 
you want it.” Miss Tucker hesitated, looked 
thoughtfully out of the window, then having 
made up her mind to improve the occasion, 
crossed the room and sat down by Margery’s 
bedside. There is one career that you might 
have right now,” she began. ‘‘ As I go around 
from family to family — and a nurse sees a lot, 
you know — it seems to me that nothing in 
the world is needed quite so much as a 
lubricator.” 

A lubricator ? ” 

A lubricator. Machinery, you know, 
can’t run without lubricating oils. Neither 
can our daily lives run smoothly without 


\ LA GRIPPE 105 

some people who can act as lubricators— some 
people, I mean, who are willing to do the 
kind little things. You remember Lowell’s 
poem to his wife: * She doeth little kind- 
nesses, that others leave undone.’ ” 

** But, Miss Tucker, I don’t think that I 
like the sound of lubricator — it sounds, well, 
it sounds so greasy.” 

Miss Tucker laughed. “ Well, there’s an- 
other way of putting it then. The last time 
I went to a football game I did enjoy it so I — 
those fine, tall lads and their spirited playing, 
and then, the cheering ! But almost as much 
I enjoyed the little goat on a leash that one 
side led out — their mascot.” 

Margery’s fancy was tickled by the thought 
of the goat. “ I might be a mascot,” she 
laughed. 

“ Exactly — that’s just what I am getting at. 
I don’t mean to say that you need be led out 
on a leash between halves of a football game I 
I am afraid that would shock Kiley even 
worse than your tweed coat, which she feels 
is so inelegant. But there are other ways of 
being a mascot. The patient I had before I 
came here was a dear old gentleman who had 


io6 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

had a hard life, but had finally managed to 
pull out into a very successful, happy old age. 
^ And it was all due to my daughter,^ he 
used to say. ‘ She was my mascot — so helpful, 
so brave always, so full of little thoughtful- 
nesses.' " 

Margery lay still, thinking. She was de- 
cidedly impressed by Miss Tucker's little 
talk; besides, many times during her illness 
her mind had gone back to the play she had 
seen that day in the city with Mrs. Endicott. 
The girl in the play had reformed a whole 
community and brought happiness to it — 
wouldn't it be wonderful if she could reform 
Renwyck's Town and bring joy to it! 

She raised herself on her elbow again. 

But, Miss Tucker, if you have a career you 
can speak about it — if you're just a mascot 
you can't go around talking about that. Peo- 
ple would think you were crazy 1 " 

Well, I think that is rather nice. To me 
it spoils things to speak about them too much. 
Besides, remember that wonderful essay of 
Stevenson's about the lantern-bearers carry- 
ing lanterns under their cloaks, and being 
happy and content just because they know 


LA GRIPPE 


107 

that they are there. You can carry ycmr 
lantern under your cloak.” 

Miss Tucker went back to the chart she was 
making out for the doctor^s inspection, and 
Margery cuddled down among the pillows, 
thinking over all the people in Renwyck^s 
Town to whom she could be a mascot. They 
were a disappointingly happy lot. The girl in 
the play had had a much easier time. But 
with characteristic determination Margery de- 
cided to mascot somebody if she died in the 
attempt. There was Gertrude Brown — but 
then, everybody did things for her. Mrs. 
Sykes’ case was similar. None of the girls 
and boys of her own age needed mascoting — 
that was plain I Imagine being a mascot to 
Bunnie; so pretty, so popular in a dashing 
sort of 9, way, so sure of herself I Or, fancy 
being a mascot to Polly I Margery’s mind 
flew back to Polly as she had been at her 
party ; so unconscious, so full of generous 
pleasure at her guests’ enjoyment. But there 
was another person at Polly’s party ; with a 
thrill of satisfaction, Margery remembered 
Miss Patty Kirkby. Sweet, patient Miss Patty 
was just the person upon whom to begin her 


io8 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

good work. But how was she to go about it ? 
How was she to dig up thistles of drudgery 
and plant the flowers of happiness? She 
thought of Polly's wish that a fairy prince 
in his coach and four would carry off Miss 
Patty. A fairy prince, she decided with a 
smile of amusement, would be the best spade 
with which to do landscape gardening in Miss 
Patty's life^ — but where was he to be found ? 
She reviewed the unattached men in Ren- 
wyck's Town. 

Miss Tucker glanced at her and saw that 
she was thinking deeply, and with a smile of 
satisfaction tiptoed out of the room, feeling 
that she had not spent a profitless half-hour, 
and that she had wisely sown good seed in a 
fertile ground. Had she realized with how 
much more ardor than discretion Margery was 
already raising those seeds, and just what the 
consequences were to be, she would not have 
been so confident. 

Left alone, Margery turned on her pillows 
so that she could watch the firelight flicker- 
ing across the dim room. The last snow- 
storm of the season spattered itself against 
the windows, and the black boughs of the 


LA GRIPPE 


109 

cherry-tree turned white against a steel-gray 
sky. 

‘‘ There’s Mr. Montgomery/’ she thought 
drowsily ; he might do for Miss Patty — but 
he has such funny white eyelashes. And 
there’s Esther’s uncle ; but he looks so cross. 
And there’s Henry Wadsworth, but he’s too 
young, and Mr. Jones is too old. And there 
is ” 

Lulled by the dimness of the room and the 
spatter of the snow, she fell asleep and dreamed 
that she was Miss Patty’s bridesmaid, and 
wore a riding-costume and Sarah’s best bon- 
net, and carried a goat as a mascot instead of 
a bouquet. 

Suddenly a brusque, good-natured voice 
spoke through her dreams. Well, little girl, 
how are the old bones to-day? Getting young 
again, are they ? ” 

Margery forced her eyes open and saw the 
doctor bending over her. With a yawn she 
sat up and rubbed her eyes. I was asleep,” 
she announced, quite needlessly. 

The doctor crossed the room and turned on 
the light. ** So it would seem,” he laughed. 

The light flooded the room, and at the same 


no MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 


instant another light flashed into Margery’s 
mind. “ Why, of course,” she thought, “ I 
wonder if the doctor won’t do for Miss 
Patty 1 ” 


CHAPTER VII 


MISS PATTY 

** Margery child, don't you think that you 
could be less fidgety ? " expostulated Mr. Mor- 
ris. You are worse than a bumblebee buzz- 
ing about.” 

Margery put down the big library shears 
she had been opening and shutting with sud- 
den, nerve-racking clicks, and turned her at- 
tention to making lunges in the air with the 
paper-cutter at an imaginary enemy. She 
had already upset the tongs with a clash in 
attempting to put another log on the fire, 
drummed loudly and monotonously on the 
window-pane with her finger-nails, knocked 
over a screen and dropped a book ; all of 
which her grandfather had endured with pa- 
tience until her final performance with the 
shears had called forth a protest. 

** Grandpapa, I have something to say to 
111 


112 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

you — something very important/^ and Mar- 
gery dragged a big, padded chair across the 
room, its castors squeaking a rebuke every 
inch of the way. 

'' Yes, dear,'' answered her grandfather as 
gently as though every nerve were not regis- 
tering its disapproval of Margery’s suddenly 
clumsy ways. 

Don't you think that it would be nice if 
we invited Dr. Huston and Miss Patty Kirkby 
here for dinner to-night ? " 

Certainly. Why — er, certainly, certainly. 
But don't you think that somebody rather — 
er, younger, would be more lively? Polly, 
for instance ? ” 

'' But it's Miss Patty and Dr. Huston that I 
want.” 

'' Oh, very well, then. I should think that 
you had seen enough of the doctor lately — 
but I suppose you enjoy Miss Patty's music. 
I shall be glad, now, when you are able to be 
back at school again. This being cooped up 
in the house is not good for you, I am sure — 
and you are certainly growing very restless. 
I shall speak to the doctor to-night about 
your going back to school.” 


MISS PATTT 


** Grandpapa, don't you think it would be 
nice," she began, drawing her chair closer to 

him, if the doctor and Miss Patty " She 

was about to launch out in a full recital of her 
plans, but her grandfather, dreading lest she 
should cause the castors to squeak again, 
waved her toward the hall and the telephone. 

‘‘ You had better telephone at once," he de- 
clared. They might be going out." 

Margery left the room, and Mr. Morris, glad 
to have his library to himself in peace and 
quietness once more, turned back to his 
Quarterly Review. 

Miss Patty had no telephone, but by dint 
of telephoning to a neighbor the message was 
conveyed that Miss Margery Morris desired her 
company for dinner that night, and would 
provide a suitable escort. The small boy who 
took the message returned in a remarkably 
short time to pant into the telephone receiver 
that Miss — Patty — says — she'll — come " ; 
and Margery turned her attention to provid- 
ing the suitable escort. The doctor seemed 
amused and rather pleased at Margery's in- 
vitation and accepted at once. 

Tell your grandfather that Pll bring him 


114 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

a book on South America that he will enjoy. 
What's that about stopping for Patty Kirkby ? 
Remember, I'm a little hard of hearing. Oh, 
yes, yes, now I understand. All right, I’ll 
‘ beau ' her out, as the country people say. 
Good-bye." 

Margery," called her grandfather, “ why 
did you ask the doctor to bring Miss Patty ? 
He may not find it convenient. Why not 
send the car for her ? " 

Oh, it's more romantic this way." 

“ Romantic ? " smiled her grandfather. 
“ What an idea 1 Dear me, what funny crea- 
tures schoolgirls are." Except for her recent 
spasm of clattering tongs and dropping books 
which he quite understood came from restless 
nerves, her grandfather had enjoyed every 
minute of Margery's stay with him. Espe- 
cially did her schoolgirl fads and fancies 
amuse him. Now, chuckling, he called again 
to her : 

Come and tell me how it is romantic." 

But Margery, thankful to have something 
interesting to do, had already hurried to the 
kitchen to consult with Kiley over the menu. 
She was sorry that Miss Tucker was not at 


MISS PATTr 


115 

home. Having decided that Margery needed 
some heavier frocks, the nurse had gone on a 
shopping tour to the city, where she was to 
spend the night with some friends. Later, 
before she left the White House Farm, she was 
to take Margery to town and aid her to select 
such additions as were needed to her spring 
wardrobe. 

Mr. Morris was proud that evening of the 
ease and naturalness with which Margery 
acted as hostess. She drew out the doctor to 
tell his best stories, especially the famous one 
about the long ago time when he and another 
college boy had serenaded the wrong girl ; and 
led Miss Patty on to talk with a tact that 
made her grandfather beam with satisfaction. 

Margery herself was equally proud of her 
grandfather as host. Grandpapa is a perfect 
dear, isn^t he ? she remarked in an undertone 
to Dr. Huston after dinner, sitting down be- 
side him on the big davenport by the fire. 
** WhaPs that Miss Patty is playing? Oh, 
yes, * Consolation.^ She must be playing it 
for me — I need consolation so badly. Pm so 
tired of being cooped up this way I Mayn’t I 
go back to school soon ? ” 


ii6 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT' 

“ Your grandfather and I have talked it 
over, and we have it all arranged that you 
shall go back to school on Monday.” 

“ Oh, goody I I’m so ” 

“That is,” added the doctor, “providing 
the weather is clear. But, shh — I want to 
hear this.” Miss Patty’s fingers had wan- 
dered into the Moonlight Sonata. “ Ah, 
beautiful, beautiful,” he sighed as the music 
ceased. 

Margery leaned forward and looked across 
the hall to the reception-room, where Miss 
Patty, a charming figure in her simple low- 
cut black silk, sat at the piano. 

“ Doctor,” she began, her resolution strength- 
ened, “ don’t you think that it would do Ger- 
trude Brown a great deal of good to have Miss 
Patty play for her sometimes? She loves 
music so.” 

The doctor was plainly pleased. Any 
thought for the crippled girl for whose tragic 
existence he had such kindly sympathy al- 
ways delighted him. 

“ Yes,” be agreed, “ that is a good scheme ! 
You and Polly have been pretty good about 
going to see Gertrude, but I fancy Patty’s 


MISS PATTT 


117 

fingers could get more music out of that old 
piano of the Browns^ than yours could — and 
Polly certainly doesn't count in the musical 
line, ril speak to Patty about it.” 

Margery plunged on : “ It will be hard for 
her to get out to Gertrude's — perhaps you had 
better take her in your carriage.'' 

Again the doctor smiled his approval. 
“ How like your grandfather you are getting 
to be, child — he's one of the kindest, most 
thoughtful human beings it has ever been my 
good fortune to meet.” 

Somewhat flushed and embarrassed the 
young match-maker left the good doctor 
serenely unconscious that she had designs on 
his bachelor independence, and went to play 
a duet with Miss Patty. 

That the doctor had acted promptly on her 
suggestion that Miss Patty's music would be 
a boon to poor bedridden Gertrude Brown, 
Margery learned the next day, when Polly 
and Esther came to spend the afternoon with 
her. 

We saw Dr. Huston and Miss Patty drive 
out and stop at Gertrude Brown's,” Polly an- 
nounced, as she pulled off her coat and curled 


ii8 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

up on the window-seat in Margery's room. 
‘‘ Marge, just as soon as you are gadding about 
again we must go to see Gertrude. I went 
one day about two weeks ago — but I'm afraid 
that she found just me, by myself, somewhat 
tame." 

Margery was silent. She was wondering 
whether or not she should take Polly and 
Esther into her confidence. Ought she to tell 
them of her dream of being a mascot ? — or, 
ought she to follow Miss Tucker's suggestion 
and like the lantern-bearers carry her ambi- 
tion under a cloak, happy in the conscious- 
ness that it was there ? She decided to feel 
her way. 

What are you going to be, Esther, when 
you grow up? " she asked somewhat abruptly. 

Esther looked up from the shoe-lace she 
was tightening. Oh, I don't know — a 
trained nurse, probably. And you?" 

" I'm going to be a writer," put in Polly. 
‘‘ Then I'll write a novel and have a thrilling 
scene of a long hospital ward with rows and 
rows of beds. And I'll have Esther there in 
a blue uniform and a little white cap on top 
of her curls — her hair is as straight as a poker. 


MISS PATTY 


119 

but the straightness won't show in a novel — 
and, of course, she will be smoothing fevered 
brows. She will go and bang her hand on 
one brow, and then she will go and bang it 
on another. The cr-r-reature in the end bed 
will be so ungrateful that he won't allow 
Esther to do any smoothing, and they will 
have * words ' over the matter, but our brave 
nurse will come off victorious, and the brow 
will be smoothed." 

And what will you make Margery do in 
your novel ? " laughed Esther. 

I will show a great operatic stage. Every- 
body in the boxes will be twittering with ex- 
citement, for it will be rumored that the great, 
the radiantly lovely Madame Oleomargerine 
Morriscovitch is to make her first appearance 
as a singer on this side of the Atlantic or any 
other ocean. The violins will coo softly, like 
a pig under a gate, and from the wings Mar- 
gery, beautiful beyond the power of pen to 
describe, will advance to the footlights to sing. 
With unapproachable art she will try to hit 
the notes. With marvelous agility she will 
bound above them, around them, and below 
them. Enchanted, the audience will rise as 


120 MARGERY MORRIS^ MASCOT 

one— and, rushing to the box-office, will de- 
mand its money back/^ 

Laughing, Margery stood up. Madame 
Oleomargerine Morriscovitch with go down- 
stairs and get you some apples as a reward for 
your efforts at prophecy, Polly. If you don't 
succeed as a novelist, you can become a 
fortune-teller." 

Still laughing, Margery ran down the 
back-stairs to the pantry, where she knew 
there was a basket of apples. “ It’s no use 
trying to talk to those girls about anything 
serious," she thought as she selected half-a- 
dozen of the biggest and rosiest apples, “when 
they are in that kind of mood." 

She sighed as she opened the stair door ; 
she felt to-day, somehow, that she wanted 
Polly’s sympathy and understanding. “ I’ll 
just have to keep it all to myself," she mused, 
picking up an apple that had rolled out of 
the bowlful she was carrying. “ I don’t be- 
lieve I’ll even say anything about Miss Patty 
and Dr. Huston to Miss Tucker. She’d think 
that they are too old, or something, to be 
romantic — she doesn’t take much interest in 
anybody but her fiancg, anyway." 


MISS PATTY 


I2I 


“ How’s Bunnie getting along with the boys 
and girls at school ? ” she said aloud, as she en- 
tered her room and held out her bowl of fruit. 

Polly selected an apple. “ Well,” she said 
slowly, “of course, she was awfully popular 
at first. She’s pretty— and she’s ever so easy 
to get to know. But she talks so much about 
herself— and she’s always saying, ' Now, I’m 
different from other people.' And she doesn’t 
seem to care much about just having a jolly 
time with a crowd of the boys and girls. She 
wants to get off* with one of the boys, alone, 
and have him crazy about her, and all that 
kind of silly thing. It makes Dick tired. 
And now, she is with Harry Richards all the 
time. Dick doesn’t like that a little bit, 
either.” 

“ Harry Richards ? Is he still at home ? ” 

“ Yes, didn’t I tell you ? He was expelled 
from school, and it’s too late in the year for 
him to get into another. He’s not doing any- 
thing, now — except wasting his time. He is 
spending too much money, and worrying his 
mother half to death. Father feels very bad 
about it, but he can’t step in and do any- 
thing.” 


122 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

'' I'm glad that Dick and Sam and the boys 
we know best aren't like that," remarked 
Esther, carefully polishing another apple. 

‘‘Harry makes me cross," went on Polly, 
“ even if he is my third cousin. He's so 
superior over the other boys, and calls them 
‘ country jays.'" 

“ He had better be careful," chuckled 
Esther ; " pride goeth before destruction, you 
know. To-day at luncheon Nancy finished 
by taking a piece of bread and wiping up her 
plate. Mother reproved her for it, and Jimmy 
piped up in the most superior fashion, ‘ Yes, 
Nan-nan, I know better dan to do dat — I lick 
miner" 


CHAPTER VIII 


TEA STACKS 

A SOFT spring breeze fluttered the window- 
curtains, and rustled the leaves of the book 
lying open on Margery^s desk. In a week or 
two the cherry-tree outside the window would 
be a mass of white bloom, and now a fat, 
ruddy-breasted robin sat on one of the boughs 
eyeing the tree contemplatively as though he 
were thinking of the feast of cherries he would 
have when June had come. Margery put 
down her hair-brush and watched him, her 
hair hanging like a veil on either side of her 
face. 

** It's all very well for you to say, ‘ cheer-up, 
cheer-ee,' all the time, you old rascal," she 
called to him ; you wouldn't feel a bit cheer- 
upy either, if you had to go to school on a 
wonderful morning like this I " 

The robin cocked his head on one side. 

123 


124 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

“ Cheer-up/^ he retorted, and spreading his 
wings flew away to seek other society. 

Margery laughed as she brushed back her 
hair, and tied on a wide black hair-ribbon. 
‘‘ It^s such a perfect day,'^ she thought ; ** I 
wish something nice would happen right 
away.'' 

What did happen was the gong for break- 
fast, and hastily slipping a clean middy- 
blouse over her head, Margery ran down the 
stairs. It was a beautiful early spring morn- 
ing ; outside, on the lawn the maple and elm 
trees were bursting into bud, and down in the 
garden the crocuses and snow-drops blooming, 
and here and there, in a sheltered corner, a 
daffodil or two. 

With the spring sunshine and the spring 
breezes came spring restlessness, and school 
that morning was hard upon teachers and 
scholars alike. Margery, struggling to keep 
her mind on the fact that in the common 
system, the mantissse of the logarithms of 
numbers having the same sequence of figures 
are equal," and her eyes from the purple 
grackles promenading haughtily across the 
school yard, found herself longing to run away. 


TEA STACKS 


125 


*■ And does it not seem hard to yon, 

When all the sky is clear and blue, ♦ 

And I should like so much to play. 

To have to stay in here all day ? ’ 

she misquoted to herself. 

The haughtiest of the grackles looked up at 
the window, his head on one side, and as if in 
agreement gave the peculiar creaking call, 
like a rusty gate, of his kind ; forgetting her- 
self Margery suddenly laughed aloud. 

The class turned and stared. Margery,** 
reproved Teacher Rachel, and Margery, red 
and amused, retired behind her book. 

At last school and luncheon were over and 
Margery sat down at her desk to begin a letter 
to her mother. A bumblebee, less romantic 
but as certain harbinger of spring as the blue 
bird, came buzzing through the open window 
and droned slowly about the room. Hastily 
deciding to postpone her letter, Margery ran 
down-stairs and out across the terrace to the 
garden. 

“ 1*11 go to see Deborah,** she thought, push- 
ing open the little white garden-gate, ** and 
take her some flowers. She hasuT any snow- 
drops, I know/* 


126 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

As she came out of the garden again, she 
saw coming up the driveway a familiar red- 
wheeled cart. 

Hello, Margie,^' called Polly as soon as she 
was within hailing distance. ** I have the 
most wonderful thing to tell you ! Do say 
you will do it ! Promise you will do it I 

Bewildered, Margery promptly answered, 
‘‘ Yes.^^ 

An answer which Polly as she climbed out 
of the cart ungratefully informed her was 
criminally reckless. How do you know, 
you blessed infant, but what I wanted you to 
sign your own death warrant ? Come on,^^ as 
she finished tying Spy to the hitching post, 

let’s go where we can talk. Shall we go up 
to your room ? ” 

'' There’s a bumblebee up there.” 

That wonT make any difference,” answered 
Polly serenely. I’m not afraid of bees.” 
Arm in arm with Margery she entered the 
house, warbling, My name is little Jock 
Elliot, and wha dare meddle wi’ me?” with 
her usual spirited independence as to tune. 

Margery opened the door of her room, and 
the bumblebee, still in possession, buzzed 


TEA STACKS 


127 

toward them. With a shriek Little Jock 
Elliot ” closed her eyes and ducked. 

“ ‘ I^m not afraid of bees/ ” giggled Margery, 
taking off her sweater and with it valorously 
waving the intruder out of the window. 

Now, Polly, do tell me the excitement I 

“ That beast very nearly made me forget 
it I Guess what it is. We — you and I — are 
going to Princeton I ” 

To college ? ” 

To tea.^' 

“ But how?” 

** IPs this way : Mother’s friend, Mrs. Mat- 
thews, who lives at Exeter, — that’s up the 
state, you know — has invited Mother and me 
to visit her next week. As we are going up 
in the car, she suggested that we start a day 
earlier, and stop for her at Princeton. Her 
son is a junior there, and she is going to see 
him. And then she added that I might bring 
one of my friends, and Jimmie Matthews 
would have tea for us in his rooms. So, of 
course, I chose you as the friend to go with us. 
Do say you’ll go. Let’s ask your grandfather 
at once.” 

Mr. Morris was not only willing that Mar- 


ii8 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

gery should go with the Jamesons, but heart- 
ily endorsed the plan. Spring vacation would 
begin in a day or two, and he was glad for her 
to have the added benefit of the little trip. 

That plans are easier made than executed, 
Margery and Polly found out, almost to their 
despair, during the next few days. William, 
the Jamesons' chauffeur, gave the scheme its 
first setback by developing a felon on his right 
hand which incapacitated him from running 
the car. Mr. Jameson was too busy to take 
his place, and it looked as though the trip 
would have to be given up, until some one 
remembered that Sam Bennet was in the 
habit of running his father's car, which was 
of the same make as that of the Jamesons'. 
Accordingly, Sam was invited to join the party 
as chauffeur, and protector against any such 
stray highwaymen and speed traps as might 
infest their way. After that had been satis- 
factorily arranged Polly gave everybody a 
scare by admitting a sore throat. That passed,^ 
over, happily ; but a fresh calamity appeared, 
on the horizon. Mrs. Matthews' cook left, 
preventing her from entertaining and threat^ 
ening her visit to Princeton. 


TEA STACKS 


129 

However, that went the way of the other 
disasters. Mrs. Jameson decided to under- 
take the trip in spite of the cook, and to stay 
at the hotel in Exeter, where she could see 
Mrs. Matthews and yet not impose the burden 
of hospitality upon her. 

As they were to stay at the hotel Dick was 
invited to join the party to give comfort and 
support to Sam ; Esther was included, and 
since Dick was going, Bunnie, also. Mrs. 
Matthews declared that they must stop at 
Princeton, just as though she were to be there, 
and she wrote to her son Jimmy to expect 
them. 

The girls looked forward especially to the 
visit to Princeton. During her illness, Mar- 
gery had read a delightful story in which 
several young girls and their chaperone had 
taken tea with some college boys in their 
rooms. The young ladies in the book had 
had a most successful afternoon. Not only 
had innumerable young men, catching but a 
fleeting glimpse of the fair ones ascending 
steps and traversing quadrangles, been so over- 
come by their beauty and charm that they 
had hastened to be included in the tea-party. 


130 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

and to hurl themselves into hopeless love, but 
also, the girls had been showered at every 
turn by big bunches of orchids and American 
beauties and giant boxes of choice bonbons I 
A prodigality that would have forced the 
average college boy to put his clothes ‘‘in hock^^ 
for a month. Margery, with her somewhat 
lavish ideas of how things ought to be done, 
had been greatly impressed by this episode in 
the book and she had insisted on each of the 
girls reading it as an example of what they 
were to expect. They had all joined with her 
in being “ thrilled,” and even Polly had been 
impressed, although her only comment had 
been : 

“ Bejabers, if it was mesilf that wad be vis- 
itin^ a college, it wadnT be on me that the 
bhoys wad be wantin' to hang the orchids, an' 
roses, an' geraniums, an' dandelions they was 
handin' out so ginerous an' free.” 

The time fairly crept by until the day of 
starting. Not even the anxious watching of 
every cloud, and the packing and repacking 
of their dress-suit cases, that they might con- 
tain everything that might be needed and 
nothing that was not, could make the time 


TEA STACKS 131 

go any faster for the four happy, excited 
girls. 

On the afternoon before the start the sky 
became overcast, the wind rose, and the rain 
pelted down. Margery and Polly telephoned 
each other despairingly and went to bed de- 
pressed, feeling a touching and sincere sym- 
pathy with Noah. 

By six o'clock the next morning, Margery 
was out of bed, anxiously leaning out of the 
window to inspect the weather. All was as 
it should be : bright, warm and clear, and 
every twig and blade of grass sparkling from 
the rain of the evening before. 

By eight, she had had her breakfast and was 
speeding along the road toward the Jamesons', 
where the party was to assemble. There the 
car was standing before the door ; Sam, very 
professional in ulster, leggings, and goggles, 
was already at the wheel, while Polly stowed 
packages away in the tonneau. 

'' Oh, Margie," she cried, giving a leap from 
the step over the pile of dress-suit cases wait- 
ing on the sidewalk, have you got your 
bag ready? William and Father are hunt- 
ing up some more straps. The car is going to 


132 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

be plastered with dress-suit cases — people will 
think that we are a traveling circus. Dick 
and Bunnie are in the house helping Mother 
to do some extra stunts to the tea-basket. 
WeVe to stop for Esther — we’re going to 
Greenwich first — it’s out of the way, but it is 
so interesting, and we want you and Bunnie 
to see it. Is your coat warm enough ? ” 

Mr. Jameson came out of the house. 
‘‘Polly, Polly,” he remonstrated, “I wish 
some of that energy that goes to waste in 
talking could be applied to running the car — 
it would save a lot of gasoline. Don’t you 
think that you had better see if your mother 
needs any help instead of chattering so 
much ? ” 

Polly obediently turned toward the house. 
“ I wish you were going with us, Daddy,” she 
remarked. 

“ I wish so, too,” exclaimed Mrs. Jameson, 
appearing at the door. “ Now that I am right 
up to it, I really feel quite apprehensive about 
taking the responsibility of all these young- 
sters.” 

“ Nonsense, Mary,” comforted her husband. 
‘‘ You’ll feel all right when you once get on 


TEA STACKS 


133 

the road. Nothing can happen with Dick and 
Sam here. Are you ready ? Well, suppose you 
start, then. Climb in, Dick and Elizabeth.” 

** There’s Esther,” cried Polly as they 
turned in at the Crowells’ gate. ‘'Doesn’t 
she look pretty in that veil? Hello, Jimmy- 
kins. Good-morning, Mr. Crowell.” 

Esther’s little brother Jimmie wailed lustily 
to go with them and Esther, leaning back to 
wave to him, seemed quite subdued for the 
moment. “ I suppose I really oughtn’t to 
leave home just now,” she remarked to Mrs. 
Jameson. 

“ I never left home yet, my dear,” Mrs. 
Jameson consoled her, “ without feeling that 
way. I even do to-day.” 

“ Now we are really off,” declared Polly 
rapturously as they turned into the smooth, 
white, level turnpike, stretching straight 
ahead of them as far as they could see. “ Oh, 
isn’t it a wonderful day ? ” 

The sun shone warmly down on them, and the 
soft spring breezes brought the fresh clean smell 
of newly plowed fields. It was one of those 
rarely lovely days in early April which usually 
end in tempestuous showers, as though Nature 


134 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

herself could not stand the sight of so much 
beauty without tears. The way led through a 
wide open country ; now past some large 
prosperous farm, with its big old-fashioned 
mansion and gigantic barns, all surrounded 
by trees, set far back from the turnpike amid 
well-cultivated fields ; now past a little cottage 
close to the road, its dooryard gay with yellow 
forsythia and jonquils just coming into bloom. 
The peach orchards were turning pink, and 
the great strawberry beds stretched like long 
green ribbons across acre after acre of white 
sand. Now and then there was a fiash of 
brilliant blue, and a blue-bird would dart 
from a swaying bough. The robins chirped 
manfully, and the quaint little song-sparrows 
in their Quakerish brown and gray sang from 
the hedges. 

Polly and Margery, perched on the side 
seats, chattered to each other like magpies. 
** Polly I Did you see that?^' Or, Margery, 
look at that bird I — and,^^ with a shriek of 
ecstasy, ** there's a lamb I " 

Dick sat on the front seat with Sam, ofier- 
ing him valuable advice. “See if you can’t 
hit that old hen, Sam I — pshaw, you missed 


TEA STACKS 


13s 

it ! There’s a cow in the middle of the road 
ahead — any duffer could hit that! Mrs. 
Jameson,” calling back, you’ll have to dis- 
miss Sam ; he has no style as a chauffeur at 
all ! ” 

Sam ! Sam I ” suddenly shrieked Polly, 
rising to her feet. Stop ! Stop ! ” 

Sam put on the brake with a suddenness 
that sent Margery on her knees and nearly 
catapulted Polly over Dick’s head. 

Little darky boy,” Polly explained, hastily 
getting out of the car and running back along 
the road. 

Sam began slowly to back the car, his face, 
as much of it as was visible beneath his 
goggles, unusually white. Did I run over 
anything ? ” he gasped. 

Dick, leaning out of the car, suddenly 
laughed. Polly has found two little dark- 
ies with a basket of arbutus,” he said, climb- 
ing out of the car to follow her. 

In a few minutes, Dick and Polly came 
back, their hands full of the lovely, fragrant 
blossoms. Not the pale, stiff things sold as 
arbutus in city streets, but shell-pink, dewy 
and fragrant. 


136 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

“ A quarter, please, Mother,” demanded 
Polly. “ The youngsters will sell them for 
fifteen cents — but it is wicked to buy so much 
beauty for so little.” 

Dick took the money back to the boys, and 
Polly put some of the arbutus aside to take to 
Mrs. Matthews, and divided the rest into 
bunches for everybody to wear. Mrs. Jame- 
son and the girls were all wearing long dark 
coats and close, small hats that would keep 
rebellious locks from whipping in their faces. 

“ Those fiowers look fine against your dark 
coats,” remarked Sam as the girls pinned on 
the arbutus. “ Altogether, you look very 
well. All except your hats,” he added with 
a laugh ; why don’t you wear a lace cap like 
Mrs. Jobson ? ” An allusion to the wife of 
the local butcher, who was one of those women 
who consider a lace-trimmed boudoir cap the 
most suitable thing for motoring. '' Great 
Scott, I forgot,” fishing in his pocket, that 
I’d copied Mrs. Jobson’s bonnet for the oc- 
casion.” 

Taking off his cloth cap, Sam pulled on a 
bright red rubber bathing cap borrowed from 
his sister, which he had adorned with a wreath 


TEA STACKS 


137 

of somewhat battered yellow roses and a 
flaunting purple bow. 

The girls shrieked with laughter. “ If Mrs. 
Jobson could see that bow/' declared Polly, 
she would turn absolutely green with envy." 

By half-past eleven they had pulled into the 
quaint village of Greenwich, with its one, 
long, elm-bordered street and old colonial 
houses. 

“This is a perfect Rip Van Winkle of a 
town," remarked Mrs. Jameson as they rolled 
slowly along. “ A hundred years ago or more 
it went to sleep, and it is still slumbering 
peacefully. I hope it will never wake up — it 
is too attractive as it is." 

“ What happened here?" asked Bunnie. 

“ Several things. It used to be an old port 
of entry, and packets from over the sea sailed 
up the creek to unload here. There was 
wealth then, and people built fine houses — as 
you can still see. But the most important 
thing they did here was to burn the tea when 
the stamp act was bothering people. Instead 
of throwing the tea overboard as they did in 
Boston, they unloaded it and brought it up to 
a field farther on, where they had a glorious 


138 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

bonfire with it. Drive on a little bit, Sam, 
and we’ll come to the monument they put up 
a few years ago to mark the spot.” 

They stopped before the public square with 
the monument and everybody got out to read 
the inscription. An automobile following 
them stopped also, and a group of pretty 
girls alighted. 

I wonder if some of those old ladies who 
were so fond of their tea didn’t feel sad when 
they saw it all going up in smoke,” observed 
Sam. 

One old gentleman did,” retorted Polly. 
'' Don’t blame it all on the old ladies. There 
was a man named Stacks who pocketed so 
much of the tea that he positively looked 
nearly twice his size. Of course, he was found 
out, and after that he was always called ‘ Tea- 
Stacks.’ ” 

''Our friends in Philadelphia were more 
thrifty,” said Mrs. Jameson. " Far be it from 
them to waste good tea by burning it or throw- 
ing it overboard.” 

" What did they do, Mrs. Jameson ? ” asked 
Dick. " Keep Sam interested,” he added in 
a whisper. 


TEA STACKS 


139 

Mrs. Jameson glanced at Sam standing 
absorbed before the monument, blissfully un- 
conscious that he was still wearing the gay 
rubber cap with its flaunting purple bow 
sticking out at the back of his head. Beyond 
him stood the group of pretty girls from the 
other automobile, staring with mingled amuse- 
ment and astonishment at his head-dress. '' It's 
a shame — I'm going to tell him," Mrs. Jame- 
son whispered back, but at imploring looks 
from the rest of her party she swallowed a 
laugh and went on : 

Oh, when they heard in Philadelphia that 
a tea-ship was coming up the river they 
formed a committee which they called the 
* Committee of Tarring and Feathering ' and 
sent the captain of the ship a letter. It said, 
if I remember correctly : ' What think ye, 
Captain, of a halter around your neck — 
and ten gallons of liquid tar decanted on 
your pate ? ' And then, there was some- 
thing about the ‘ feathers of a dozen wild 
geese laid over the tar to enliven your appear- 
ance.' " 

Dick wrapped his long arms about himself 
and doubled up back of Sam. A rubber 


140 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

bathing cap would have enlivened his appear- 
ance more,” he whispered to Margery. 

Then the letter said,” went on Mrs. Jame- 
son gravely, although her eyes twinkled, 
“ ‘ Only think seriously of this. Captain — fly 
to the place from whence you came — fly with- 
out hesitation — fly without the formality of a 
protest — and above all. Captain, fly without 
the wild geese feathers.^ ” 

What happened ? ” asked Sam, really in- 
terested. He cast a scornful glance at his 
giggling friends. ‘‘ DonT mind them, Mrs. 
Jameson,” he apologized politely; ” they just 
don't take any interest in anything worth 
while.” 

“ Why, Sam, the captain flew — without the 
feathers. And he took his ship and the tea 
with him ; and Philadelphia's protest was just 
as effective as the Boston Tea-party — though 
very much less sensational.” Then, in spite 
of the pleading looks cast at her she started 
to share the joke of the cap with Sam. Just 
then the chaperone of the other party turned 
to him and asked him a question about the 
monument. 

Instinctively, Sam's hand flew to his 


TEA STACKS 


141 

cap, and encountered his strange head-gear. 
Blushing scarlet, he pulled it otf, and with a 
sober, almost sad expression he stepped nearer 
to the chaperone and the prettiest of the 
girls. 

'' Please pardon my — er, decoration,'’ he said 
confidentially in a stage whisper that could 
be distinctly heard by his own party. We 
are taking this poor half-witted fellow here," 
indicating Dick, to the asylum. He gets 
very restless and troublesome in the automo- 
bile, so I put this on to amuse him and keep 
him quiet. And I forgot to take it off when 
we got out of the car. Yes, madame, this is 
the monument built to commemorate the 
burning of the tea." 

The lady glanced at Sam's grave face and 
at Dick’s, astonished and somewhat indig- 
nant, and burst into delighted laughter. 

Oh, you boys," she exclaimed. ** I have 
two of my own." 

After they left the monument they went 
down to the end of the road, where the village 
stopped abruptly at the creek. 

Polly glanced up at the huge tree by which 
the car was standing. ''Look at that tree. 


142 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

little children/^ she said, while I preach 
you a Sunday-school lesson. As once that 
tree was nothing but a whip used to shoo flies 
off the back of a horse, so may you, little 
children, develop from your present — ah, 
ahem — worthless state into something great 
and wonderful like, like '' 

The owner of Sam’s bonnet,” teased Dick, 
tossing her the rubber cap. '' Or like the 
High Chief Fabricatoress of Tales like some- 
body else.” 

That tree really did grow from a whip. 
Once upon a time, long ago, a good Quaker 
from here drove to Quarterly Meeting. His 
horse was very, very slow, and the good 
Quaker began to fear that meeting would be 
over before he ever reached it. So he climbed 
out of his gig and cut himself a whip, and 
between tickling his horse with it and brush- 
ing off the flies, he managed to get to meet- 
ing in time. W^hen he reached home he stuck 
his whip in the ground, and there it is — tow- 
ering above you I Disbelieve me if you dare I 
Now then — lay on, Macduff, to wherever 
luncheon will grow.” 


CHAPTER IX 


IN THE GEEENWOOD 

Oh, when shall we reach the place for 
dinner ? sighed Polly as they passed the old 
red-brick meeting house and turned their backs 
on Greenwich. I'm so hungry ! " 

Cheer up, Polly," urged Dick ; you look 
as pathetic as that phoebe bird back there on 
the fence post I " 

What's that ? " asked Bunnie. 

‘"The phoebes come north without their 
wives," explained Esther, “ and sit around as 
dejectedly as can be until the ladies arrive. 
See, there's one — that little brown bird with 
the dark head and wings and white breast. 
Oh, dear ! — he's gone ! " 

“ Aha, Polly ! " cried Dick before long, 
“ there's Austen ahead of you. Put on your 
pretty cap now, Samuel, so as to make a sty- 
lish entrance into the metropolis I " 

Past pleasant, comfortable homes, each set 
143 


144 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

in the midst of a large wooded lawn, they 
rolled into the main and business part of the 
town. Austen was a thriving, populous man- 
ufacturing place, and the streets were crowded 
with traffic. Sam, whose experience as chauf- 
feur had been limited to the quiet streets of 
Renwyck’s Town and the still quieter country 
lanes, found himself confused by the clanging 
trolley cars, the numerous automobiles and 
heavy trucks surging around him, and still 
more so by the haughty mannered traffic- 
policeman who stood at the crossing of the 
two principal streets. That lofty individual as 
they approached him held up his hand to stop, 
and Sam stopped with a prompt obedience 
that nearly threw his passengers out of the car. 

The road cleared and the policeman mo- 
tioned them to proceed. Sam unfortunately 
could not at that moment. 

Come on I ” bawled the policeman im- 
patiently. 

In desperation Sam seized a handful of 
levers and the car shot back a yard or two. 

“ Honk ! H-o-onk I remonstrated the car 
back of them. 

Polly rose literally to the occasion. “ Sam I 


IN THE GREENtVOOD 145 

Sam I she exclaimed, standing up. “ Put on 
the exhilarator I — I — I mean the accelerator! ” 

An amused bystander on the sidewalk 
burst into a hearty guffaw ; seizing Polly by 
her skirts Mrs. Jameson pulled her down into 
her place. With a snort the car bounded for- 
ward and drew up with a flourish before the 
door of what advertised itself to be “ Austen’s 
leading hotel.” 

Polly was not the only one of the party who 
was hungry, and before they left the table 
Esther declared she was ashamed to look the 
waiter in the face. Luncheon over, they 
climbed into the car again and the serious 
part of the journey began. 

The afternoon grew warmer and warmer, 
and they were glad that much of their way 
was to be through long arms of that great 
region of pine woods, known as the barrens, 
which reaches inward from the sea. At flrst 
the road was indifferent and sandy, and the 
pine-trees and scrub-oaks were stunted. Here 
and there, they passed a solitary cabin with 
unkempt children playing about it, and dogs 
that grew hysterical over the automobile. 
Occasionally a wood-cutter stopped to stare 


146 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

after them. As they went deeper and deeper 
into the barrens the character of the woods 
changed. The dwarfish trees gave place to 
stately yellow pines and tall cedar-trees, and 
here and there a sweet-gum. The air grew 
odorous with woodsy perfumes ; sweet-fern 
and pine-needles, and now and then was 
added the cool damp smell of wet earth as 
they crossed some narrow stream of dark 
topaz cedar-water, slipping silently between 
banks of moss and the yellow spotted leaves 
of dog-tooth violets, and under spreading 
clumps of budding alder and swamp mag- 
nolia. Once or twice they spied among the 
dead leaves and pine-needles a patch of deli- 
cate, fragrant pink, and the girls had to climb 
out of the car to gather more arbutus for 
Mrs. Matthews. 

“ What a queer, mysterious green light 
hangs over everything here in the woods,^^ 
observed Polly as she came back to the car 
after one of these excursions, both hands full 
of arbutus blossoms. I feel as though I 
ought to see some little gnome peering out at 
me from behind a tree/’ 

Bunnie looked bored. “ I’ll be glad when 


IN THE GREENJFOOD 147 

we get to Princeton,” she confided in a 
whisper to Margery. It isn’t a bit exciting 
with just Dick and Sam — and I’m tired to 
death of these old woods.” 

As they started on their way again, Mrs. 
Jameson looked at her wrist watch. “ Beau- 
tiful as all this is,” she said, I feel a little 
uneasy. I * smell thunder in the air,’ as 
Missouri says. Are you sure, Sam, that you 
took the right turn at the crossroads? Let 
me see the map.” 

Dick handed back the map which he and 
Sam had spread on their knees and were 
studying from time to time, and Mrs. Jame- 
son bent over it as the car trundled slowly 
along. Sam,” she said at last, “ we have 
made the wrong turn — we’ll have to go back, 
I’m afraid. Suppose that we hurry as much 
as we can. If a storm should come we really 
ought to be in Fenton before it breaks.” 

They had arranged to spend the night at 
the comfortable little country hotel in the 
small town of Fenton. 

** All right, Mrs. Jameson, — just as soon as 
we come to a wide enough place to turn. It’s 
too narrow here, and the trees are too close.” 


148 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

The road grew rougher and Sam bumped 
the car along slowly that the jar over the 
rough places might not be too severe. The 
place where he could turn seemed to be always 
beyond the next bend in the road. Rather 
tired and drowsy from the long ride in the 
fresh air, the girls grew quieter, and no one 
had much to say. 

'' What’s that knocking, Sam?” exclaimed 
Polly, suddenly. ** Is anything wrong with 
the engine ? ” 

No — I’m just running slowly because of 
the tree-roots. Hope the road is better soon. 
Thank goodness — there’s a place ahead of us 
where we can turn I See — there’s a road, 
there, crossing ours.” 

They reached the crossroads and Sam 
backed and turned, but in turning swung the 
car too far over into a sand-pocket. The car 
made several gallant but ineffectual efforts to 
run through it, then, with a sigh like a tired 
dog, stopped. 

‘‘ Anybody off? ” called out Bunnie. 

‘ All ashore that’s goin’ ashore,’ ” laughed 
Esther. 

Toot ! Toot I All aboard ! ” urged Polly, 


JN THE GREENWOOD 149 

Engine's stopped," observed Sam to Dick, 
paying no attention to the girls behind him. 
“ I'll have to start her up again and back out." 

‘‘ Zr-zr-zr," remarked the engine, refusing 
to be electrically self-started. 

Pity this isn't a horse," observed Dick 
after Sam had tried everything that he had 
ever seen any one do in similar circumstances 
and some he had not. 

“ The batteries aren't working right," 
snapped Sam in answer. 

“ I'm afraid there's something wrong with 
the engine," said Polly. I didn't like the 
way it was knocking a little while ago." 

“ Is there anything wrong, Sam ? " asked 
Mrs. Jameson. 

Sam took off his cap and rubbed his fore- 
head. “ Why, there seems to be something 
wrong with the self-starter, Mrs. Jameson," he 
answered. I'll have to get out and crank 
her." 

He got out, and searched through the tool- 
box. Crank handle isn’t here. I'm sorry, 
Mrs. Jameson, I'll have to look under that 
back seat." 

Mrs. Jameson and the girls piled out of the 


150 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

car while Sam searched for the missing handle. 
“ Where do you keep the thing, Polly ? ” asked 
Dick. 

“ I don^t know — I^ve never seen Father or 
William have to use it.” 

Here it is,” exclaimed Sam. ** Crazy place 
to keep it,” he muttered to Dick. “ It was in 
one of the side-pockets there.” 

Dick took the handle and cranked away 
manfully ; cranked until his face showed 
purple under the tan and the veins stood out 
on his forehead. 

Polly and the girls wandered up the road 
and fell to picking spice-bark twigs. We 
don^t know where we’re going, but we’re on 
the way,” hummed Margery impersonally, 
biting a neat little round of bark off her 
twig. 

Sam took his turn at the crank handle. 
‘‘ Engine won’t turn over,” he groaned at last. 
“ She’s on a dead center, someway or other.” 

Dick stood thinking, his head on one side. 
“We had better push the car out of the sand,” 
he said in his decided, practical manner. 
“ Perhaps we can get things going that way.” 
Sam and Dick put their shoulders to the 


IN THE GREENWOOD 151 

wheels and pushed, but the car was big and 
heavy. 

What’s going on there?” asked Polly of 
Margery, straightening up from a new variety 
of wild-flower she had been inspecting. 

** It’s moving day,” laughed Margery. 

** Come on,” cried Polly, hurrying toward 
the boys. Our lily white paws,” holding 
up a pair of brown and muscular little hands, 

will have to help.” 

Laughing, the girls put their young strength 
against the car, and slowly and elephantinely 
it rolled back into the road. 

Now then,” said Dick, try to crank.” 

Again, Sam tried everything known to his 
inexperience, without avail. Finally, the boys 
solemnly pushed the car down the road in 
the forlorn hope of starting the engine. 

No use,” said Sam at last. “ Something’s 
wrong.” 

The breeze that had been rustling the 
tasselated tips of the pine-trees grew stronger, 
and whirled Dick’s cap from off* his head. 

Wish the old car was a horse,” he declared 
again, as he caught his cap and jammed it 
back. 


152 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

Polly sat down on the running-board. 
“ I’m feeling somewhat like the babes in the 
wood,” she sighed. 

And a storm coming on, too,” added 
Esther. ” See how dark it is.” 

That’s just because we are in the woods,” 
consoled Sam. 

” Yes — but hear the wind in the trees I 
That has a real, stormy sound.” 

Mrs. Jameson was plainly worried, although 
she made a brave attempt to hide it. I’m 
glad that we have you two strong boys with 
us,” she said cheerfully. But what shall we 
do? — We can’t stay here all night.” 

“ Get out the road map, Dick,” suggested 
Bunnie, and see how near we are to any- 
thing. I hope we shan’t have to walk far. 
It was miles back that we passed a cottage.” 

“ Anyway,” said Dick, ” I think we must 
be near to the edge of the barrens — see how 
much smaller these trees are than they were a 
while back.” 

Perhaps it won’t rain after all,” suggested 
Margery hopefully. 

” Oh I ” cried Polly. ” Here comes some- 
body ! I hear wheels rattling ! ” 


IN THE GREENWOOD 153 

Dick jumped to his feet. Sure enough I 
he exclaimed. 

Down the crossroad came a rickety old cart 
with a snub-nosed boy of about sixteen 
perched on its high seat driving the heavy 
plow horse. 

“ Hello ! Ye're in a fix," he grinned, as 
hailing him Sam explained their predicament. 
‘‘ Them there automobiles has their disadvan- 
tages, ain't they?" he gloated. “Yes, yer 
ain't so very far from the pike that runs into 
Fenton — yer chose a good place fer yer break- 
down. Yes, there's a place yer can telephone 
from. Right down there a piece — where this 
road crosses the pike, there's old Dutch Hans. 
He's what they call a Swiss, or an Eyetalian, 
and he runs a bakery. Bakes his things — 
and they're prime, too — an' sends 'em over to 
Fenton. He's got an ice-cream parlor an' a 
telephone." 

“Thank goodness!" sighed Mrs. Jameson. 
“ It's just a little farther on, you say ? Come 
on, girls, we had better hurry I We'll tele- 
phone to a garage in Fenton and get them to 
send out a car for us and a mechanic to see 
what is the matter with this one." 


154 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

The boy on the cart gathered up the reins. 

I fergot to tell yer — old Hans ain't all there 
in his intellect. But he’s harmless. He just 
thinks his girl, that was cornin’ out from 
Switzerland thirty years ago ter marry him 
an’ that got drowneded on the way, is alive 
an’ cornin’ ter-morrow. An’ he’s always a-get- 
tin’ ready fer her, an’ talkin’ about her. He 
says to Ma last week — he stopped at our house 
fer a glass of water — he says ‘ Mine Hedwig ’ 
(that was her name ; ain’t it funny ?) ‘ she 
vill be here ter-morrow.’ An’ Ma never let 
on she knowed she was dead, nor nothin’, an’ 
just says pert as you please, ' Do tell, Hans, 
won’t that be nice fer you I ’ He’ll show you 
the furniture he’s carved for her — an’ tell you 
she’s cornin’ ter-morrow, but don’t you care.” 

Mrs. Jameson, not interested in the boy’s 
gossip, and her mind bent on seeing that the 
curtains of the car be pulled down carefully to 
keep out the approaching storm, and that the 
dress-suit cases be unloaded for fear of their 
being stolen, paid no attention to him. But 
Polly and Margery would have lingered to 
ask him more questions. 

Hans ain’t never hurt anybody that I ever 


IN THE GREENWOOD 155 

heard tell of — he’s real harmless,” he con- 
cluded as he rattled away. 

Isn’t it exciting?” whispered Polly, as she 
clutched Margery’s hand and they hurried 
together along the slippery pine-needle strewn 
path. 

It grew darker and darker and the wind 
whipped the trees and bushes menacingly. 

“ Hurry, children, hurry,” urged Mrs. 
Jameson. The storm is coming soon.” 

Who would expect a thunder-storm in 
April ? ” said Dick as he stumbled over the 
roots of a tree. 

“Cheer up, Mrs. Jameson,” consoled Es- 
ther, who had hurried on ahead. “I see a 
light.” 

“Here’s the end of the woods just ahead,” 
reported Dick. “ I can see a clearing and a 
turnpike.” 

The woods stopped and the road ran 
through a peach orchard. At the end of the 
orchard was a little old house, its wide clap- 
boards weather-beaten to a silver gray. A 
vegetable garden with a small, windowless 
log cabin in its midst, stretched to its left ; to 
the right the forest approached. Careful 


156 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

hands had transplanted wild-flowers from the 
woods and fields to a patch of garden before 
the front door and whitewashed the clam- 
shells outlining the walk and the flower-beds. 
A small neat sign by the gate announced 
“ Johann Hess, Baker. Soft drinks for sale.^^ 

Margery paused and looked at the little 
gray house with garden, and at the woods, 
sombre now, beside it. Polly, she said, 
“ doesn’t it remind you of the little house in 
the woods that Hansel and Gretel found ? ’’ 

‘‘ Sh-sh,” whispered Polly, with mock cau- 
tion. A witch owned that house — and she 
was a baker, too. Don’t you remember how 
she heated up the big oven and was going to 
roast the children ? Oh, I hope ‘ old Hans ’ 
talks about his girl that was drowned. Isn’t 
it terribly romantic?” 

Mrs. Jameson was less interested in the 
romance of the occasion than she was in the 
fact that the trees were wildly tossing about 
them and that the rain was beginning to fall. 
“ I do hope that the old man is home,” she 
gasped, hurrying up the front path. 

As though to reassure them, the sound of a 
violin came faintly from within. 


IN THE GREENWOOD 157 

Dick put down the dress-suit case he was 
carrying. “ It’s all right, Mrs, Jameson.” 

The violin stopped ; there was the sound 
of approaching footsteps, and the door was 
thrown open. A tall old man, with a power- 
ful frame, and a gentle, childlike face, stood 
before them holding a lamp. 

Good-even-ing,” he smiled. 

Have you a telephone we may use?” 
asked Mrs. Jameson. '' Our car has broken 
down and I should like to telephone to the 
garage in Fenton.” 

The old man smiled again, and held the 
door open. I shall have glad to haf you use 
the ’phone,” he said politely. Vill you not 
enter ? I am sorry there is no hostess to vel- 
come you — to-morrow mine Hedwig vill be 
here — but to-day I am alone.” 

Margery clutched Polly’s hand and squeezed 
it rapturously. 


CHAPTER X 


hedwig’s home 

The front door opened directly into ft 
parlor, where the old man motioned the 
others to seat themselves, while he took Mrs. 
Jameson into the room beyond to telephone. 
Margery looked about her with interest. The 
parlor showed that it was very old ; the floor 
of wide worn boards sagged from the fireplace 
at the rear to the low, narrow windows of 
many panes at the front, and the low ceiling 
seemed to be on top of her head. There was 
little furniture in the room save an old settle, 
painted gray and stenciled across the back 
with a basket of fruit and flowers, and a 
couple of rush-bottomed chairs. In the center 
of the floor stood a curiously and beautifully 
carved table with a bowl of arbutus on its top. 
Through the partly open door they could see 
into the room in which was the telephone, 
and which seemed to be a sort of office and ice- 
168 


HEDWIG^S HOME 


1 59 

cream parlor, with rows of shelves holding 
bottles of sarsaparilla and ginger ale. 

Dick,'' Margery whispered, “isn't it rather 
spooky ? " 

Dick laughed. “ Oh, you find lots of queer 
little places like this scattered through the 
country." 

There was a flash of lightning, and a few 
seconds later a crash of thunder. Margery 
clapped her hands over her ears, while Dick 
sauntered to the open window and looked 
out. “ It's coming down in buckets," he 
observed. “ Come here and see." 

“ Dick, do come away from that window," 
protested Margery, as another vivid flash of 
lightning illumined the room. “ It's dan- 
gerous." 

“ Oh, the storm isn't near," answered Dick 
easily. “ Count your pulse beats between the 
flash and the thunder and then you can tell 
how many miles away the lightning is." 

Mrs. Jameson came back from telephoning, 
considerably relieved. “ I found a garage, 
and they'll send a car out for us as soon as 
the storm slacks up a little. And a man to 
look over our car — we can tow it in if 


i6o MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 


necessary. Dick, have you the tea-basket 
there?” 

Dick picked up the basket from the pile of 
luggage by the door. Some day I'm going 
to invent a tea-basket that won’t weigh a 
ton,” he said, and then they’ll give me a 
tablet in the hall of fame.” 

“ A full-length statue, you mean, with your 
highness in the act of conversing in the deaf 
and dumb language,” put in Polly wickedly. 

Dick grinned good-naturedly. He had long 
ago ceased to be sensitive over the time he 
and Sam had attempted to fool a car-load of 
people and had the joke turned back on them- 
selves. “Shall I unpack this ?” he said im- 
perturbably, turning to Mrs. Jameson. 

“ May we spread it out on one of the tables 
there in the other room?” she asked, turning 
to the old man, who was standing, an inter- 
ested onlooker, in the doorway. “ And have 
you any cakes — or ginger ale for sale that we 
might have ? ” 

The old man smiled again, the gentle, guile- 
less smile with which he had greeted them. 
“ I haf tea-buns and ginger ale, if you vould 
like them — an’ I can mak’ you some coffee. I 


HEDPFIGS HOME i6i 

haf sorry that I haf not more to offer you — 
but I am sold out for the day. To-morrow 
mine Hedwig vill be here, an' den I vill haf 
more. I do not haf ice-cream until the sum- 
mer time he comes — den ve haf so many auto- 
mobile parties stoppin' here — I mak' lots of 
money. Vould not de young ladies like to 
come de stairs up ? There they can their faces 
vash and themselves rest." 

The girls glanced at each other ; they were 
dusty from their long ride. ‘‘ My face is 
perfectly clean," declared Esther, but a little 
water wouldn’t hurt Polly’s." 

They picked up their dress-suit cases and 
lamp in hand old Hans led the way through 
the office to a narrow boxed-in staircase. On 
the second floor were two small bedrooms, 
and one large one containing a great, carved 
four-post bed. 

What beautiful furniture," exclaimed 
Mrs. Jameson. 

You like the carvin’, hein?" and old 
Hans ran his hand lovingly down one of the 
carved posts. I have it myself carved. I 
learned to carve vhen I a boy in Switzerland 
was. I haf all this done for mine Hedwig — 


i 62 MARGERT morris, MASCOT 

she is to-morrow coming/^ He paused and 
gazed thoughtfully at the girls. ‘*She is 
pretty, mine Hedwig, with golden hair like 
this young lady here/^ and he laid a finger 
softly on Margery^s curls. Now I must the 
cakes for your supper get. There is fresh 
water here/' pointing to the ewer on the 
wash-stand, beautifully carved to match the 
bed. 

He disappeared down the stairs, and the 
girls opened their dress-suit cases and took 
out hair-brushes and whisks. ‘‘ Well, any- 
way, Margery," laughed Polly, as she stuck 
her face into the basin of cool, fresh spring 
water, the witch has behaved pretty well so 
far." 

Isn't it thrilling ? " said Margery. “ I 
think he's terribly romantic." 

‘‘That old man romantic?" said Bunnie, 
with a shrug of her shoulders. “ That isn't 
my idea of romance I " 

Bunnie moved aside from the mirror where 
she had been powdering her nose, and Polly 
took her place. “ I'm afraid Bunnie is aw- 
fully bored," she said softly to Margery. 

“ Never mind," Margery whispered back. 


UEDWIGS HOME 163 

We^ll be at Princeton to-morrow, and she’ll 
enjoy that.” 

“ I hope Jimmy Matthews and the boys 
there make a fuss over her,” sighed Polly. 
“ Otherwise I’m afraid she will find the whole 
trip awfully dull.” 

Refreshed, the girls blew out the lamp, and 
stumbled down the steep box-stairs, ready for 
supper. 

Sam and Dick had unpacked the tea-basket 
and spread out the contents on a couple of the 
small tables in the office which had been 
pushed close together. Old Hans hovered 
about, greatly interested. His face lighted up 
as the girls exclaimed over the plate of tea-buns 
and the ginger ale he placed on the table, and 
he hurried off to make some coffee for those 
who wanted it. Outside the thunder roared 
and the rain fell in torrents, but it was unable 
to quench the gay spirits of the young people 
within. Nor was their gayety decreased by 
the interest old Hans took in Margery. 

You certainly seem to have made a hit, 
Margie,” laughed Sam as they rose from the 
table and went back to the parlor where a 
lamp had been lighted for them. 


1 64 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

” Did you ever see such a deluge I ” re- 
marked Dick, going to the window. '' We 
won't be able to start soon at this rate.” 

Aweel, my young friend,” answered Polly, 
patience is a splendid virtue for you to cul- 
tivate.” 

How about yourself? ” 

“ Would you gild the lily or perfume re- 
fined gold,” quoted Polly, glibly if inaccu- 
rately. I am already perfection.” 

Especially your modesty, my dear,” 
laughed her mother. I wish it would stop 
raining. What a queer eerie place this is,” 
she added with a little nervous shudder. 

It is positively uncanny to hear that old 
man always talking about his Hedwig — and 
to think that the poor girl has been dead this 
thirty years.” 

Oh, never mind. Mother,” consoled Polly ; 
“ he's perfectly harmless. Besides, we have 
two brawny boys with us. I think it's per- 
fectly dear and romantic of him — don't you, 
Sam?” 

Sam was intensely sentimental at heart, al- 
though he would not have admitted it for 
worlds. Now he shuffled his feet uneasily, 


H ED WIGS HOME 165 

and clearing his throat tried to utter some- 
thing sprightly. 

The wind sent a spatter of rain violently 
against the window pane and banged a shut- 
ter noisily. 

Well, I suppose if the worst comes to the 
worst, went on Mrs. Jameson, ** we can spend 
the night here. But I think that Fll try 
telephoning again. 

“ I can't get any answer from central," she 
said, coming back from the office a few min- 
utes later. Evidently the storm has put 
the wires out of order. It's only half-past 
seven, fortunately." 

It's slackening already," said Esther, who 
was sitting by the window. I believe that 
it is going to stop raining pretty soon. That 
downpour was just a final spurt. But don't 
let's sit here like mournful mummies. Let's 
play something, if it is only ‘ I love my love 
with an A.' " 

** I love my love with an A, because she is 
aquatic, and I became acquainted with her in 
an automobile in April," rattled off Bunnie. 

“That's too high-brow for me," objected 
Sam. “ Can't we do something else ? " 


i66 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

‘‘If somebody will run up-stairs to. the bag 
I left there/^ said Mrs. Jameson, “ he will find 
a package. I took the precaution to bring 
several games.^' 

“ I'll go," volunteered Margery. “ I want 
to get my sweater, anyway." 

“ Can you find your way in the dark ? " 
asked Polly. 

“ Yes, Grandmamma. There's a little lamp 
here in the ofifice — do you suppose that Hans 
will do anything to me if I dare to take 
it?" 

“ Ask him if you may." 

“ He isn't there." Margery disappeared 
and the others went on talking. 

“ Just think, summer will be here before 
we know it," commented Esther. “ Thunder- 
storms already." 

“ Where are you going this summer, 
Polly ? " asked Sam. 

“ We don't know yet. I wish we could all 
go away somewhere together. I wonder how 
long Margery is going to stay after her father 
and mother come." 

Suddenly above the patter of the rain fall- 
ing from the eaves, and the sough of the 


HEDJVIGS HOME 167 

wind in the wet trees there was the crash of 
something falling. 

'' Wh-what was that ? exclaimed Mrs. 
Jameson. 

** Just a shutter blown off/^ reassured Dick. 

Mr. and Mrs. Morris are coming some time 
early in June, aren't they ?" went on Esther. 
** I hope they won't go right back. It would 
be such fun to have Margery here for part of 
the summer." 

I wish she would hustle up with those 
games now," suggested Sam. 

Let’s sing something," suggested Polly. 

Strike up, Sam, — you're next best to Mar- 
gery at leading." 

Three blind mice," sang Sam, obediently. 

** Three blind mice," Dick took it up. 

** Three blind mice," warbled the others. 

** I wonder why Margery doesn't come," 
said Polly, after they had finally settled the 
fate of the three afflicted rodents. 

“ Perhaps she can't find the right bag," sug- 
gested Mrs. Jameson. “ Call to her, dear." 

Polly went to the foot of the stairs, calling 
** Margery ! " There was no answer. ** Mar- 
gery Daw," she called again ; then, ** Peggy I " 


i68 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

Still no answer. '' Peggy-wegs,” she cried ; 
louder, this time. 

“ It doesnH make any difference what name 
you call her,’^ laughed Esther. Margery’s 
like the Tar-baby and ' jes’ keeps on a-sayin’ 
nothin’.’ ” 

' Miss Kate Penoyah I Miss Kate Peno- 
yah I,’ ” warbled Sam, twanking an imaginary 
guitar. ‘ My love for you will never, never 
die I ’ ” 

‘ Young naan below dah ! ’ ” Polly and 
Esther chanted together the immortal an- 
swer. ** ‘ Young man below dah ! Miss Kate 
Penoyah lives foh doahs below, sah I ’ ” 

Polly,” ordered Polly’s mother, run 
up-stairs and see what is the matter with 
Margery.” 

'' Yes, Mother. Dick,” Polly called back 
from the stairs a moment later, ** it’s all 
dark up there. Won’t you bring me some 
matches ? ” 

Dick picked up a box of matches from the 
parlor table. Don’t you want me to go up 
with you?” he asked, taking them out to 
Polly. “ Girls are always afraid of the dark.” 

Thank you, Mr. Ball, I don’t want you 


HEDWIGS HOME 


169 

after that remark/* and with a flounce of 
pretended indignation Polly disappeared up 
the stairs. 

Dick chuckled and went back to the others. 

Bunnie, who added palmistry to her other 
accomplishments, was reading Sam’s hand, and 
Dick leaned over her chair to watch the per- 
formance. “ Promise him wealth and fame,” 
he recommended, “and long life and happi- 
ness. Any gypsy can do that for a quar- 
ter.” 

“A Roumanian gypsy came to our house 
one day and wanted to tell our fortunes,” said 
Mrs. Jameson. “ She was a pretty little crea- 
ture, with henna-dyed hair, and a chain of 
gold coins across her forehead, so we told her 
to go ahead and try. She asked for a glass 
of water, which she stood in the middle of the 
table. Then she told us to make a wish. 
* Now,’ she said, passing her hand over the top 
of the glass, ‘ if the water boils, your wish will 
come true.’ And immediately, the water did 
boil I She must have had some kind of 
chemical concealed in the palm of her hand 
and dropped it into the glass — she was very 
deft, for we could see nothing and ” 


170 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

Polly quietly entered the room, and closing 
the door behind her, leaned against it. 

“ Something — something dreadful has hap- 
pened I she gasped. 

Dick sprang up. What ? ** 

Margery I Margery's gone I And — and 

— the room is all upset — and — and ! " 

She held out a small, blood-stained handker- 
chief. 


CHAPTER XI 


OLD HANS 

** Polly — tell me what you mean/^ com- 
manded Mrs. Jameson, her voice sharp with 
anxiety. ‘‘ Try to tell me what you mean I 
It^s just this, Mother — the room where 
we left the bags is all in confusion. Oh, it^s 
dreadful I And, oh, Mother I — Margery wasn't 
there — and I couldn't find her I And the 
lamp is all broken on the floor — and your bag 
is upset — and everything spilled out — and I 
lighted the matches and looked for her — and 
I couldn't find her I And, Mother," her voice 
dropped to a hoarse whisper and she held out 
the handkerchief again, limply, I found this 
by the wash-stand — one of those funny, tiny 
little ones of hers with the colored monogram. 
Oh, what do you suppose has happened to 
her?" 

Mrs. Jameson leaned back in her chair, 
ghastly white and trembling. Dick," she 
murmured appealingly. 

171 


172 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

Dick took command of the situation. “ Per^ 
haps Margery has fainted or something, and 
struck her head — you only lighted matches, 
you say, Polly. I’ll go and look.” 

He started to open the door ; Bunnie grasped 
his coat and held him back with cousinly 
solicitude. ''Dick, Dick,” she implored, 
" don’t go up alone — and see what old Hans 
is doing, first.” 

They looked at each other. Bunnie’s words 
had suggested a new and disquieting idea. 
" He did keep saying Margery was like his 
' Hedwig,’ ” muttered Sam. " Here, Dick, 
I’ll go up with you. Sorry to take your 
light, Mrs. Jameson, but we may need it.” 
He picked up the lamp from the carved center 
table, and they started toward the stairway. 

" I’ll go, too,” volunteered Polly. 

" If only I had never undertaken this 
dreadful trip,” groaned Mrs. Jameson. Bun- 
nie and Esther made no answer and the three 
sat clasping hands on the settle. Finally, 
Bunnie rose and opening the front door, 
peered out into the wet, silent darkness. | 
" Oh, dear,” she sighed, and went back to her 
place beside Esther. 


OLD HANS 


^73 

Up-stairs Polly and the boys were survey- 
ing with consternation the disorder and con- 
fusion disclosed by the lighted lamp. At 
their feet lay a small upturned candle-stand 
and a broken lamp ; Mrs. Jameson’s bag was on 
its side and its contents were spilled out over 
the room ; and one of the curtains of the big 
bed dragged on the floor, torn from its support. 

Dick opened the door of the built-in cup- 
board in the corner. “ Nothing here,” he re- 
ported. 

We’d better look through the other 
rooms,” suggested Sam. 

The two other rooms were small and 
sparsely furnished, and it did not take long 
to search them. On the bureau in the room 
which was evidently used by old Hans stood 
a small faded tintype of a young girl in a 
picturesque peasant costume. 

“ She does look something like Margery,” 
murmured Polly with quivering lips. ‘‘ Oh, 
Dick — do you suppose seeing her made — him 
go crazier ? ” 

Dick patted her sympathetically, if clum- 
sily, on the shoulder. Brace up, brace up,” 
be choked. ** Perhaps it will be all right, 


174 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

after all. We'd better go down-stairs and see 
if she's there, — and see if old Hans is about." 

There was no trace of Margery or Hans in 
the office, or in the small kitchen with a two- 
burner oil stove, behind it. 

Dick squared his shoulders. We'll have 
to search outside," he said through tightened 
lips. Come on, Sam." 

I'll take this lamp back to the others first. 
I've an extra box of matches in my pocket 
— we can use those." 

The rain had ceased and the moon was 
struggling through the heavy masses of flying 
clouds. Now and then there was a fitful 
flash of lightning which illuminated the wet 
woods beside the house. The wind rustled 
the tops of the tall trees, and occasionally 
there came the low distant rumble of thunder. 
Beyond that there was no sound. Polly 
paused at the beginning of the path leading 
from the little flower-garden into the woods. 

Margery I Margery I " she called softly. 
Her voice struck the massed tree-trunks and 
echoed back, faintly and derisively, 'ery I 
'ery I " 

** Here, Sam," directed Dick, “ you take 


OLD HANS 175 

Polly with you and search along the roadway 
— Pm going deeper into the woods. Have 
you your matches all right ? 

He hurried down the path and disappeared 
in the darkness. Now and then came the 
faint gleam of a lighted match. 

Sam pushed open the little gate and he and 
Polly made their way down the turnpike past 
the strip of woodland jutting upon it. All 
was silent and empty. At intervals a whip- 
poor-will, that shyest of birds, lover of night 
and dense thickets, would send forth its weird, 
plaintive call, Whip-poor-will I Whip-poor- 
will I Polly, stumbling along the dark road 
behind Sam, felt as though an iron band were 
around her throat, and the tears rolled un- 
heeded down her cheeks. 

We^d better go back — and look up along 
the other road — the one we came by,^^ whis- 
pered Sam, jerkily. 

Whip-poor-will I ” came from the tree 
above ; startled Polly clutched at Sam, and 
her tears came faster. 

They turned back and passed the house, 
where Bunnie stood, tense and watchful, in 
the doorway. Have you heard anything ? 


176 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

she called softly, as the light from the room 
behind her fell upon them. 

Nothing/' said Sam, wearily. 

‘‘I wish Dick would come," Polly mur- 
mured. “ It's not safe— his going alone in 
the woods that way." 

Sam stopped and gave the first few notes 
of the whistle he and Dick had used as a 
signal between them for years. 

Faintly, but clearly, the answer came back. 

“ He's all right, at any rate." Sam took 
Polly by the arm and they turned up the 
narrow sandy road by which they had reached 
the home of old Hans, somewhat over an 
hour earlier. 

“ Oh, Sam — what do you suppose can have 
happened to her ? " 

Sam made no answer. 

Suddenly he stopped. “ Polly ! Look I " 

‘‘ What ? Where ? I can't see anything." 

** Look I See that little gleam of light over 
there?" 

Yes, it's Dick lighting matches." 

“ No, it isn't. It's stationary." 

Polly shook her head mournfully. I 
don't believe it's anything, Sam," she gulped. 


OLD HANS 


177 

It's just a tiny ray of light — but, we'll go 
and see. We'll have to go back, and around 
the house to get to it." 

Sam lighted another match and they stum- 
bled along for a few yards in its flickering 
light. The match burned to the end and went 
out. There was a rustle in the bushes beside 
them, and something scurried across the 
road. Polly gave a stifled scream. Sam's 
overwrought nerves found relief in irritation. 

" Oh, brace up, Polly I It's only a rabbit I " 

They reached the house again ; Bunnie had 
closed the door, and there was only the faint 
light from the windows to guide them. Sam 
stood still and considered. 

“ I say, Polly, do you remember thatqueer lit- 
tle log cabin in the vegetable garden? Iremem- 
ber noticing it this afternoon when we came." 

No," said Polly. “ Oh, yes, — I do re- 
member it I " 

I think that gleam of light comes from 
there." 

Polly took an eager step forward, and 
walked into a tall bush, the wet twigs of 
which slapped her in the face. “ Oh, Sam," 
she said miserably, do light another match." 


178 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

“ Here, hold on to my sleeve,'' ordered Sam. 
‘‘ I can feel my way by the clam-shells along 
the path." 

Dick's whistle came from the woods, and 
Sam paused to answer it. “ I guess he's com- 
ing," he said. " See, Polly, see that tiny 
gleam of light — I’m sure that comes from the 
cabin." 

They crept forward, Sam feeling his way 
by the clam-shells outlining the walk, and 
sensibly saving the few matches left in the 
box. Beyond them, before long, they could 
see the dim outlines of a building. 

The light does come from there," whis- 
pered Sam. 

‘‘ Whip-poor-will," sang the hidden, mys- 
terious bird of the night. As if some wild, 
perverted echo to its melancholy cry, came, 
gay, impudent, rollicking, the sound of a 
violin. 

‘‘ Sam I " 

Sam stood still and listened. " It comes 
from the little log house," he muttered. 

Polly ! " 

“ Ron, ron, ron 1 Petit pataplon I II etait 
une bergere." 


OLD HANS 


179 

Deserting Polly, Sam began to run in the 
direction of the dimly outlined building, fall- 
ing into bushes as he went. Polly stood still, 
a big round tear rolling down her cheek. 
‘‘ IPs Margery’s voice,” she said aloud. Catch- 
ing her breath with another long sob, she too 
ran in the direction from whence came the 
music. She caught up with Sam, and to- 
gether they fell against the door and pushed 
it open. Breathless, and half-stunned with 
relief, they stood blinking at the light. 

Perched on a big table in the middle of the 
room sat Margery, one eye hidden under a 
wide, white bandage that encircled her head 
and finished in two great rabbit-ears in the 
back. Across the narrow cabin, old Hans, 
fiddle in hand, sat on a flour barrel. 

Margery turned toward the pair in the 
doorway, startled at their agitated appear- 
ance. Wh-what’s the m-matter ? ” she 
gasped. 

‘‘We’ve been looking — for — you every- 
where,” panted Polly in answer. 

“ Were you ? ” asked Margery innocently. 
“ Why didn’t you call me ? ” 

Sam advanced menacingly toward old Hans. 


i8o MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 
“ What did you mean by keeping her?” he 
demanded. 

Hans turned wide, faded, blue eyes upon 
him. “I understand not,” he answered 
slowly. “You want the young lady— yes? 
The young lady was hurt.” 

“ Hurt?” cried Polly, shaking off the spell 
that seemed to have clutched her, and run- 
ning forward to throw her arms around Mar- 
gery. “ Oh, Margery, dear— has he hurt you 
— your head ? ” 

Margery shook off Polly’s arm a trifle im- 
patiently. “What is the matter with you 
two ? Yes, I banged my eye against that old 
bed and cut my forehead. I’ll be a nice sight 
to go to Princeton to-morrow — with a black 
eye like this. Oh, Polly, wouldn’t you just 
know some crazy thing would happen to me 
— it always does I ” 

Polly and Sam turned amazed faces toward 
her. “ Banged your eye ? ” they said to- 
gether. 

“ Yes, Hans has been getting some hot 
water for it.” Margery dipped a fresh pad of 
linen in a bowl of water standing on the 
table beside her, and raising the bandage 


OLD HANS 


i8i 


over her eye, slipped it deftly in place. Hot 
water was the thing to use, I know — that's 
what Papa did when a golf-ball struck him 
in the eye — so I went down and asked Hans 
to get me some." She turned and smiled at 
the old man sitting silently on the flour- 
barrel, “ and he very kindly came right down 
here to the bakery and got some." 

Polly and Sam looked at each other. ** Tell 
the others," Polly said faintly, waving her 
arm feebly toward the door, and then as Sam 
started toward the main house, she burst into 
hysterical shrieks of laughter. 

Margery stared at her in astonishment. 

What is the joke?" she demanded. Polly 
continued to laugh. Polly — stop it," Mar- 
gery ordered sternly, at last. 

Polly buried her face in her hands. You 
look so funny," she gasped. “ Oh, Margery ! 
— don't — don't — you make me worse. You 
look so funny when you try to be dignified 
with that crazy bandage sticking out in rab- 
bit-ears behind your head. But, Margery/' 
she whispered, glancing over her shoulder at 
the old man placidly tuning his violin, '' the 
room — how did it get so upset? We found 


1 82 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

the chair and the lamp broken on the floor — 
and your handkerchief — I found it — blood- 
stained I She dropped her voice still lower. 
<< We — we thought you had been murdered.^' 

Margery gave a little shriek and turned 
pale at the thought. Polly I Why, I never 
dreamed of such a thing I Do you suppose 
that I would have done a crazy thing like 
that? I — she whispered, as Hans looked 
up, I blew out the lamp and started down- 
stairs — and then — I couldn’t find the door. 
I thought that it was awfully funny at first, 
and giggled and giggled to myself — and then 
after while I began to get scared. The room 
was so dark and so still — and I fancied that 
I could hear some one breathing — I just 
imagined it, of course. And then, suddenly 
— crash — I hit my head against the bedpost I 
It hurt terribly, and my forehead bled where 
I had cut it against the carving — see,” and 
she lifted the bandage, disclosing a discolored 
eye, and a slight cut above her eyebrow. 

That made me feel faint and sick. Then I 
started to call for help — but just as I started — 
I knocked into the chair and upset a lamp 
or something — I smelled kerosene. At that 


OLD HANS 


183 

moment a brighter flash of lightning came — 
and I saw the door. Of course, it was dark 
in a moment — but I managed to make my 
way out. Then,"' more cheerfully, I came 
down-stairs and asked Hans to get me some 
hot water — for I knew that was the best thing 
for my eye. You were all singing, ‘three 
blind mice ^ when I came down the stairs.'^ 

“ But why didn't you come to us ? " 

“ Oh, because I knew that I looked such a 
sight, with the cut in my forehead, and my 
eye all bunged up — and — and my nose was 
bleeding, too. Besides, I just felt so miser- 
able and forlorn that all I wanted to do was 
to get some water on my eye. Besides, Bun- 
nie and everybody would have laughed at 
me." 

“Why did you come out here?" asked 
Polly. 

“ Because there was no water heated in the 
house, Hans said, but there is a funny reser- 
voir sort of thing in the stove there — see, at 
that end — where you can always get hot 
water. And Hans was really awfully nice." 

Hans got up and, going to the stove, lifted 
the lid from the reservoir at the end. With 


1 84 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

a swing of one long arm he reached for the 
bowl on the table beside Margery, and care- 
fully refilled it. “ That is it,’^ he said with 
his curious childlike smile, as Margery dipped 
her linen pad in the hot water ; that will 
your eye do good. You will again sing?"' 
He drew his bow across the strings of his 
violin, and Margery, with an apologetic smile 
at Polly, sang again the little nursery song 
she had been singing when Sam and Polly 
found her, '' Ron I Ron I Ron I Petit pata- 
plon I 

There was the sound of footsteps outside 
and Sam appeared. Behind him was Dick, 
his clothes wet and muddy, but his face shin- 
ing with relief Well, Margery,’^ he began, 
** you've given us a peach of a scare — what 
made you act like this ? ” 

“Like what?" demanded Margery, some- 
what excitedly. 

Dick quietly looked about the cabin, noting 
the big, brick oven on one side, and the large 
range. “ This your bakery ? " he asked Hans. 

Hans nodded and smiled. “ Here I do the 
baking — mine things are good — it is because 
I have such good ovens, and the skill. Her4 


OLD HANS 


185 

I keep the fire going in my range always. 
When the young lady wanted water for her 
eye, I say ^ come to the bakery.^ 

<< Oh — oh, yes. The automobile has come, 
and I think Mrs. Jameson would like to see 
you at the house.'' 

Hans picked up his lantern and led the 
way toward the house. As they left the cabin, 
Dick drew Margery aside. ‘‘What made you 
come off this way, Margery ? " he asked some- 
what sternly, as though he had been the cousin 
they both had once thought him to be. “ You 
gave us a fright." 

From behind them Polly's voice protested. 
“ Oh, don't tease her, Dick. She lost her way 
in the room and banged her forehead — I’ll 
tell you all about it some other time." 

Dick took the hint and asked no more 
questions about Margery's adventures beyond, 
“ But why did you stay out there so long 
talking to that old codger?" 

Margery hung her head and was silent. 

There was considerable excitement at the 
house ; the automobile had come from the 
garage just after Sam had burst in on Mrs. 
Jameson with his joyful news, and she and 


1 86 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

Bunnie and Esther were hastily restrapping 
dress-suit cases, and trying to compose their 
harassed nerves and emotions, while Sam ac- 
companied the men up the road after the 
abandoned car. The questions thrown at 
Margery in the midst of the hubbub were too 
incoherent for her to attempt to answer them, 
and not until they were all tucked away in 
the big touring car sent from the garage, with 
their own machine following at the end of a 
stout rope, was she able to tell exactly how it 
all happened. 

Margery did not relish the rain of com- 
ments, half amused, half irritated, showered 
upon her, and she was grateful to Dick when 
he began a story of his adventures and wan- 
derings in the dark underbrush of the woods 
looking for her. As she thought of the worry 
and distress of which she had been the cause, 
she felt that it would be adding insult to in- 
jury to confess that she had lingered in the 
bakehouse talking to old Hans because here 
had seemed an opportunity to be a mascot. 
The old man had been so pathetically eager 
to talk about his Hedwig, so anxious to play 
for Margery, and so delighted to find that she 


OLD HANS 187 

sang some of the simple songs which he knew 
that she had felt her presence to be a boon 
to him. It had not occurred to her that at 
the same time she might be bringing anxiety 
to others. 

** I wish/' she thought ruefully as they 
bumped over the rough cobblestones of the 
little town of Fenton, that I had thought 
about the others, too. Oh, dear, there is such 
a lot to think about in being a mascot." 

They were all too tired and sleepy to do 
much talking when they reached the little 
country hotel where they were to spend the 
night. Esther and Margery shared a room 
together ; yawning and nodding they hastily 
unpacked and tumbled into bed in the quick- 
est time possible. 

Do you know," murmured Margery sleep- 
ily as her head touched the pillow, " I be- 
lieve that I'll go out of the mascoting busi- 
ness." 

** What ? " asked Esther, pausing with a 
shoe in her hand. 

But Margery only answered by a long, 
sleepy sigh and turned over, dragging the 
bedcovers with her. 


CHAPTER XII 


PKINCETON 

Esther sat up in bed the next morning and 
tossing her pigtails over her shoulders turned 
to look at Margery. 

Oh/' she shrieked, Margery I You 
poor child." 

Margery opened a pair of sleepy eyes. 

What's the matter? " she asked. 

'' Your nose and your eye — they're dread- 
ful." 

With an answering shriek, Margery bounded 
out of bed to the looking-glass, only to fall 
back despairingly. Esther," she almost 
wept,** did you ever see anything so horrible? 
My face felt rather queer in the night — once 
or twice I half woke up — but I went right to 
sleep again ; I was so tired, you know. But 
I never dreamed that I'd look like this I 
What shall I do ? " 


188 


PRINCETON 189 

Esther got up to investigate. '' Oh, it isn’t 
so bad,” she comforted, tenderly feeling Mar- 
gery’s nose. Your nose isn’t broken— and 
it really isn’t so awfully much swollen.” At 
that Margery mustered courage to take an- 
other peep at herself in the glass. “It’s just 
that you have such a pretty nose that every 
bit of swelling shows. Your cheek is rather 
discolored around your eye — but I’ll lend you 
my chiffon veil. It’s a heavy one, and people 
won’t be able to see through it. Isn’t it 
lucky I brought it I ” 

There was a chorus of consternation mingled 
with laughter when Margery appeared at the 
breakfast table, but as nothing seemed to be 
seriously amiss, they dropped the subject of 
her mishap and turned to the weather. 

The day had dawned bright and clear after 
the thunder-storm, and as the car was found 
to be only slightly out of order they had 
hopes of getting under way by ten o’clock. 

“ There’s a package for whichever one of 
you young ladies is named Miss Margery,” 
said the clerk at the desk, as the young peo- 
ple started out for a stroll to fill in the time 
before the car was ready. 


190 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

“Why, my name is Margery,^' exclaimed 
Margery, surprised. “ What can it be ? '' 

The clerk handed out a large square box. 
“ Old Hans Hess, the baker, brought it this 
morning before you all were up.’' 

“ Perhaps Mother ordered some cakes,” 
suggested Polly. “ She paid him, I know, for 
the damage we did — but perhaps she thought 
she ought to do more.” 

“ Let’s open it, anyway,” proposed Sam. 

“ It is addressed to me,” said Margery, as 
she unfastened the cover. “See — it has to 
‘ Miss Margery ’—and then a dash, as though 
he didn’t know my last name. Oh I ” Inside 
the box were two rows of little spice-cakes, 
each delicately iced and with half a walnut 
sitting on top. “ Oh, here’s a note,” she 
cried. “Just listen to this — ‘ For the young 
lady who was kind, and with me talked and 
sang.’ Oh, isn’t it interesting 1 — see what a 
queer, cramped handwriting.” 

The clerk joined in the conversation. “ Did 
you let old Hans talk about his girl that was 
drowned ? He’s dotty in his head, and peo- 
ple are real mean about teasing him. My 
wife lets him talk about his * Hedwig ’ to her 


PRINCETON 19, 

sometimes, and he’s right grateful. I de- 
clare, it’s real pathetic. He’s a fine baker, 
too, and I guess he’s made a lot of money.” 

Margery put the cover back on the box 
somewhat pensively. She had given pleasure 
to old Hans, and he was grateful ; yet at the 
same time she had brought distress to Mrs. 
Jameson and the others. Being a mascot, 
she concluded, was bewildering and complex. 

Buying picture post-cards to send back to 
friends and relatives in Renwyck’s Town, 
and to old Hans, furnished an object for the 
stroll. Margery, trailing along with Polly 
and Esther and Dick, found that the light 
made her eye feel uncomfortable, and that 
her head ached from the blow she had given 
it the night before. A peep in a shop-window 
revealed, also, that not even Esther’s heavy 
blue veil had been able to disguise the dis- 
figurement. With a pang of envy, she watched 
Bunnie, walking ahead with Sam. The visit 
to Princeton, looming on the horizon for the 
afternoon, and the fact that she had monop- 
olized the society of Sara, seemed to have 
raised Bunnie’s spirits and she was vivacity 
itself. She looked very pretty and charming 


192 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

ill spite of the fact that she had coiled up her 
dark hair in entirely too elaborate a fashion 
for a schoolgirl, and completely disguised 
her delicate complexion with a mask of 
powder. Her laugh, too, was too loud and 
her voice too shrill. 

As they stepped into the little shop where 
post-cards were sold, Margery overheard Dick 
say with cousinly frankness, Oh, cut it 
out, Bunnie I Why don^t you act like the 
other girls? And what’s the use of having 
your hair frizzled up like that, and of look- 
ing as though you had fallen head foremost 
into the flour-barrel?” 

Bunnie laughed and tossed her head, but 
made no answer. 

When they stopped at a wayside hotel for 
luncheon, Margery took another survey of her 
battered features. Alas, they looked even 
worse than they had in the morning, for the 
eye was turning a deeper purple and riding in 
the brisk wind had increased the swelling of 
her nose. Margery, innocently proud of her 
looks, bit her lips to hide their quivering. 
** I wonder why it is that things always hap- 
pen to me,” she thought forlornly. ^‘Nobody 


PRINCETON 


193 

else gets into wrong houses and bumps her 
nose, and has to go to college teas looking 
positively disreputable/* 

“ I wonder if some cold-cream put on 
the bruise and then lots of powder over it 
wouldn*t hide the discoloration,** suggested 
Polly. Mother, have you the cold-cream 
jar?** 

Mrs. Jameson did not have it, and a search 
through the baggage revealed the fact that 
somewhere on the trip the cold-cream had 
been left behind. Dick offered to go across 
to the little general country store opposite the 
road-house and buy some. He came back 
laughing. 

The old man over there,** he said, was 
very sorry that he had no cold-cream, but he 
offered me junket-tablets, instead. Evidently 
he thought cold-cream was some kind of a 
dessert! Too bad, Marge.** 

‘‘What is Jimmy Matthews like?** asked 
Bunnie, giving her hat a more becoming tilt. 

“ Whenever he has come to Renwyck*s 
Town,** answered Dick, “ he has been a regular 
society gink. I imagine all his friends are, 
too.** 


194 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

Margery turned away from the mirror de- 
spairingly. A collection of society ginks 
to face seemed the last straw. 

By three o’clock the gray towers of Prince- 
ton appeared above the budding tree-tops. 
The girls straightened up with happy antici- 
pation ; at last the enchanted moment was at 
hand. Margery saw Bunnie fluff her hair out 
over her ears and take a surreptitious peep at 
the vanity case she had produced from her 
pocket. Instinctively, Margery straightened 
her own hat, and pulled her heavy chiffon 
veil more becomingly away from her nose. 
Suddenly she stopped and her hand dropped 
heavily into her lap. In the fresh air and in- 
terest in the countryside she had forgotten her 
swollen face and blackened eye. She put out 
her hand mournfully for Bunnie’s vanity case. 

Sam happened to turn around at that mo- 
ment to speak to Mrs. Jameson and caught 
Margery ruefully regarding herself in the tiny 
mirror. ''It looks pretty bad, doesn’t it?’' 
he said sympathetically. " Any one would 
think you had been in a fight.” 

" Margery Morris,” chuckled Dick, " the 
heavy-weight champion of the State.” 


PRINCETON 


195 

Margery groaned and was silent. '' I'll just 
have to sit around like a veiled mummy," she 
thought to herself. '' Well, anyway," with a 
desperate attempt at cheerfulness, I'll see 
the buildings — I suppose that's something. 
And, maybe, when the other girls are having 
a good time with all the college boys, Sam 
and Dick will remember to talk to me." 

She turned toward Dick. He was sitting 
beside her, watching those gray towers which 
every minute were becoming less distant, with 
an expression of wistfulness and sadness that 
puzzled her. ** I wonder what's the matter 
with him," she thought. I've seen him 
looking like that several times lately." 

Mrs. Matthews had arranged for her son to 
meet them at the Inn, but just as they reached 
the town Polly suddenly exclaimed : 

“ Why, there's Jimmy Matthews now I 
Jim I Jim I " 

A young man on the sidewalk stopped and 
stared at them, then with rather a dazed ex- 
pression, crossed the pavement to speak to 
them. He seemed remarkably sunburnt, 
Margery noticed. 

Well, here we are, Jim — on time," said 


196 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

Mrs. Jameson. We were just going down to 
the Inn to meet you. I suppose that your 
mother wrote to you that the party is to be 
increased by the Sullivan girls, who arrive to- 
day to visit Mrs. Price. They are to meet us 
at the dormitory with Mrs. Price, who, being 
the wife of a professor, presumably knows her 
way about here. Margery, this is Mr. James 
Matthews — Miss Morris, and another Miss 
Morris. Esther and Polly and the boys, of 
course you know already, Jimmy.^' 

Jimmy Matthews was a pleasant- faced, 
cleanly built young fellow, and Margery felt 
if he had not laughed so much, and been so 
obviously ill at ease, that he would have been 
very attractive. “ Er — er,'' he stammered, 

I was just going down to the Inn to meet 
you — but — er, I met a chap I knew, and he 
detained me. Oh — er, excuse me for a mo- 
ment.^* 

He dashed after a young man just crossing 
the street ahead of them, and seizing him by 
the arm pulled him back to the sidewalk. 
There followed a brief conversation, earnest on 
Jim’s part, and evidently highly amused on 
the side of the other. Finally, the other 


PRINCETON 


197 

young man stopped laughing and giving Jim 
a slap on the back went off in the direction 
of the town. 

Jim came back to the car. ''Friend of 
mine/' he explained. " I'll cut down to the 
dorm, now and meet you by the steps. If 
you would like, you can circle round the 
streets a bit first, and see things before you 
come in." 

" Oh, get in with us," invited Mrs. Jame- 
son. " We'll go right down with you now. 
We won't have so very much time here — so 
we will just have to take a peep at things as 
we're leaving. These girls will never forgive 
me, I know, if I waste a minute of this won- 
derful party." 

Jim looked more sunburnt than ever. 
" Oh, no, Mrs. Jameson," he protested, vehe- 
mently, " I wouldn't think of getting in — 
I'd crowd you too much. Besides, you'll 
surely want to see the buildings, and you'll 
enjoy it more without me," he added with 
one of those unnecessary bursts of laughter 
of his, which seemed to Margery so remark- 
able. 

" I don't see why Dick calls him a ' society 


198 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

gink/ '' she thought scornfully. “ I think 
he^s crazy. 

Bunnie was not so scornful ; a real, live 
college man of any kind was greatly to her 
taste. ** Do come,^^ she said coquettishly. 

Jimmy hesitated and was lost. 

Do come/' repeated Bunnie with a killing 
glance. 

“ Hurry up," jerked Sam, and with a last 
despairing excuse, Jim jumped onto the run- 
ning-board as the car started off. 

Down the wide, pleasant street past old 
North with its crouching lions they drove to 
the dormitory where Jim had his rooms. As 
the car drew up by the curbstone, a lady ac- 
companied by two girls of nineteen or twenty 
approached. Mrs. Jameson hailed her as Mrs. 
Price, and there were introductions all round. 

Margery looked at the two Miss Sullivans 
in awe and exasperation. No swollen noses 
and darkened eyes there ; instead, features of 
maddening elegance. Both girls wore their 
wide black hats so as to obliterate one eye, 
after the fashion of the hour, but Margery’s 
faint and irrational hope that it might be to 
conceal a discolored orb was unfounded. All 


PRINCETON 


199 

four eyes were of a deep, clear, undamaged 
blue. Margery turned to Jim, expecting to 
see him overcome with admiration, but he 
too seemed to be regarding the beauty and 
style of the two Miss Sullivans with conster- 
nation. 

“ Excuse me for a moment,'' he muttered, 
and dashing up the stairs two steps at a time 
he left them. 

The others scarcely noticed his absence, for 
Mrs. Jameson and Mrs. Price were busily 
chatting together renewing an old acquaint- 
ance, and Sam and Dick were engaged in 
making themselves irresistible to the two 
Miss Sullivans. Margery had already dis- 
covered, and been amused by, the boys' pro- 
found admiration for girls older than them- 
selves. As Jim disappeared up the stairs, 
Margery edged nearer to Polly and Esther, 
who were deep in a discussion of what they 

had seen. Margery, don't you think " 

began Polly, when Jim came flying down the 
stairs as he had gone up, two steps at a time. 

Room's ready now," he panted. “ Sup- 
pose you come up." 

They followed him up the stairway to his 


200 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

study. Margery sidled in after the others 
and sat down in a big, engulfing chair in the 
corner. Polly, full of interest in a typical 
college room, with its photographs and pen- 
nants and all the treasures dear to academic 
youth, beckoned her to come forward, but 
Margery shook her head so decidedly, and 
with such evident annoyance, that Polly 
laughed and let her alone. 

‘‘ I wonder if my room at college will look 
like this,^^ she chattered happily away to any 
one who would listen to her. ‘‘ Aren^t you 
glad you made up your mind to go to col- 
lege? she called to Margery in a final at- 
tempt to draw her out. 

Feeling like a mixture of Sarah Crewe, 
Cinderella, and the Ugly Duckling, Margery 
pulled her chair around so that it hid her 
from the others and crouched back in its 
roomy depths. Soon the room would be full 
of college boys and the wonderful party would 
have begun ; anyway, she decided ruefully, 
those boys shouldn't have a chance to make 
fun of her, and her black eye. She leaned 
over and retied her shoe-lace in an effort to 
control the sobs that threatened to come unbid- 


PRINCETON 201 

den. As she straightened up again she noticed 
a towel and pajama jacket lying on the floor 
beside the chair. Always instinctively neat, 
she rolled them up and slipped them into a 
more inconspicuous place behind the chair. 
This was a funny party, she thought with an 
amused shrug of her shoulders; evidently Jim 
had not had time to clear up for it properly. 
She looked about the room ; it bore signs of 
having been hastily put into order. And how 
differently Jim did things from the boys in 
the book ; they had had flowers and candy at 
every turn, and a maid from the caterer’s to 
assist the girls with their wraps. There were 
no flowers here, not even a bunch on the tea- 
table. 

The door opened and the young man whom 
Jim had seized upon when they had first 
arrived, appeared, somewhat breathless. Jim 
advanced to meet him. 

“ Stores are shut up,” the young man an- 
nounced. “ Business men’s convention, or 
something. Got these crackers from Hol- 
worthy’s room — and some tea from Law- 
rence’s. Got a lemon from Bill, and these 
spoons.” 


202 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 


Jim took the things from his friend in 
silence. 

Can’t you take them to the Inn, or some- 
where for tea ? ” 

Jim sighed. ‘‘ The trouble is, Alec, Mother 
promised them all a tea here in the rooms. 
They can’t stay very long, Mrs. Jameson says, 
— I’m afraid anyway if I shunt them off that 
they’ll catch on that I’ve forgotten they were 
coming.” 

“ What made you forget ? ” 

Jim clapped his hand to his heated fore- 
head. “ More than I know I Mother wrote 
me about it — I put the letter in my pocket. 
Thought about it several times — meant to 
look up the exact hour and date ; and then I 
forgot. I wouldn’t mind if it weren’t for the 
Sullivans. Peaches, aren’t they? I never 
met them before — but they’re friends of Giles 
Lawrence’s. Oh, I’ll never hear the end of 
this mess I ” 

The boys moved over toward the tea-table, 
and Margery, hidden in her big chair, doubled 
up in silent laughter. So Jim had forgotten 
the party. No wonder he acted so queerly, 
and seemed so ill at ease. She glanced across 



( ( 


WHAT MADE YOU FORGET?’’ 





PRINCETON 203 

the room ; Jim hovered unhappily around 
the tea-table, lighting the alcohol lamp, and 
slicing lemon, while his friend Alec deserted 
him for the Sullivan girls, who were also 
focusing all the attention of Sam and Dick. 
Esther and Polly looked out of the window, 
full of interest in all that they saw in the 
yard below. Bunnie sat on a stiff little chair 
beside them, her pretty face clouded. Plainly, 
she was feeling neglected and disappointed. 

* And this is a college party I her expres- 
sion said only too clearly. '' Now, Pm the 
kind of a person that expects a good time/' 
Jim evidently read it so, and turned red- 
der and laughed more hilariously than ever. 
Margery stopped smiling and looked at him 
in sympathy. That poor boy was trying to 
give a party and was in difficulties over it. 
It must be dreadful to have a whole army of 
people plump down on one, and to be expected 
to entertain them brilliantly — and to have 
nothing ready I 

In his embarrassment Jim turned the flame 
of the alcohol lamp down, then up, then down 
again, too far down, for he turned it out. A 
frantic search through his pockets revealed 


204 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

that he had no matches and he crossed the 
room to search on the mantelpiece beside 
Margery’s chair. 

Margery leaned forward. I have some 
cakes I can give you,” she said softly. 

Jim started. ‘‘ I — oh, that’s ” he stam- 

mered. 

‘‘ I know you didn’t expect us,” Margery 
went on. I have some cakes in the car 
that will help out — and there are some flow- 
ers that we were taking to your mother. 
Suppose we go and get them.” 

Jim regarded her in speechless gratitude. 
“ Come on,” he said. 

Tiptoeing, and laughing a little, they 
slipped quietly out of the room. As they 
ran down the stairs, Margery hastily ex- 
plained about the cakes, and Jim, in return, 
gave an incoherent explanation of how it had 
happened that he had overlooked their com- 
ing. 

“I’m afraid that you’re having a mighty 
dull time,” he regretted, as Margery climbed 
into the car and handed out the box of cakes. 
“ Sitting off by yourself that way. I’m aw- 
fully sorry about it all. Even if I am rattled 


PRINCETON 205 

there’s no sense in my being such a poor 
host” 

Margery felt very much at ease with poor, 
helpless Jim. “You’re doing beautifully— 
under the circumstances,’’ she consoled him 
with a maternal little manner that made him 
smile. “But the reason I was sitting apart 
that way was that I’m such a fright.’’ 

“ Such a fright ? Oh, no I ’’ 

“ Such a fright,’’ answered Margery firmly. 
“ I have a black eye— I ran into a bedpost 
and almost killed myself. So you see I don’t 
feel much like talking to people — or like tak* 
ing oif my veil.” 

“ How did it happen ? ” 

Margery told him briefly the tale of her 
misadventures. It had not occurred to her 
before that they were funny, but as Jim 
shouted with laughter, she too began to see 
the humorous side. 

“ We’re companions in misfortune,” asserted 
Jim. “ Thank goodness somebody else is in 
a fix, too.” 

Margery suddenly felt immensely cheered. 
“ It’s just as well I can’t lift my veil,” she said 
sagely, “for I’ll have to have some excuse for 


2o6 MARGERT morris, MASCOT 

not eating anything. There wonT be enough 
cakes to go round unless it^s a case of ‘ family 
hold back ^ for you and me.” 

Jim looked at her admiringly. ** You^re a 
good little sport.” 

Outside the study door Margery paused. 
“ Now if you^ll just persuade everybody to go 
out and take a walk, and see the sights — 141 
persuade Mrs. Jameson to stay back with me, 
and we41 arrange the tea-table and everything.” 

“ YouTe a brick,” murmured Jim. 

Margery was so impatient to get everybody 
out of the way that she never quite knew how 
Jim, with the aid of a few menacing words 
hissed into the ear of his friend Alec, managed 
to persuade the others that it was nothing 
short of criminal to visit a college and not see 
all the buildings, or how it was decided that 
her eye would interfere with her powers of 
locomotion to such an extent that she must 
stay behind with Mrs. Jameson and Jim, 
gallantly self-sacrificing, for company. 

As the others trooped out Mrs. Jameson was 
told of the dreadful predicament. She was 
frankly amused, but she entered heartily into 
the spirit of their endeavors, and contributed a 


PRINCETON 207 

bottle of olives and a pound of peppermints, 
which she had tucked away in the car for 
emergencies, to the collation. 

“ Now then,” ordered Margery, as Jim re- 
turned from a borrowing tour, “go and get 
all the boys you can— any sort will do— and 
tell them to make a particular fuss over Bun- 
nie Morris. She’s the pretty girl with the 
frizzled-out hair over her ears.” 

Jim obediently hurried off, and Margery 
and Mrs. Jameson finished arranging a bowl 
of the arbutus, which, with the aid of plenty 
of damp moss, had been kept fresh and fra- 
grant. All too soon for their host, the others 
came back, and the room began to fill with 
boys who drifted in by ones and twos ; boys 
with singularly modest appetites, Margery 
noted. 

“ Can Margery sing or play or anything?” 
whispered Jim to Mrs. Jameson, when only 
two crackers and three olives remained. 

She sings very sweetly,” Mrs. Jameson 
answered. 

Jim thrust a banjo into Margery’s hands. 

“ Sing something,” he commanded. “ We 
must make things go I ” 


2o8 MARGERT morris, MASCOT 

If he had asked her to fight a duel or swim 
the Hellespont, Margery could not have been 
more appalled. “ I— I can't,’' she objected. 

But she had undertaken to make the party 
a success, and Margery, well launched on any 
project, was not easily to be deterred ; ac- 
cordingly, she threw back her veil. What 
should she sing? She remembered a lively 
air which she had heard old Thomas of the 
Morris farm singing. Picking at the banjo 
strings she began : 

‘‘ Ah danced wid a gal wid a hole in her stockin’, 
An’ her heel kep’ arockin’, 

Her heel kep’ arockin’; 

Ah danced wid a gal wid a hole in her stockin’, 
An’ her heel kep’ arockiu’, kep’ arockin’.” 

By the time she had sung it twice over the 
others took it up, and sang it over and over 
again, delighted with its catchy air. Then 
the prettier of the Sullivan girls remembered 
a darky song that she knew, and Margery 
willingly handed over the banjo. Keenly 
conscious of the puzzled looks some of the 
boys had cast at her eye and nose, she pulled 
down her veil and slipped back into her quiet 
corner. 


PRINCETON 2og 

More boys drifted in, and the party became 
a lively one. Bunnie was the center of a 
jolly group, and the two pretty Sullivans, 
who were not unknown to college fame, held 
a regular little reception of their own. Polly, 
with her unconscious, gracious manners, was 
instantly popular, and Esther was a close 
second. Margery, alone in her quiet corner 
again, felt forlorn and neglected. 

But Jim had no intention that she should 
be slighted. When he was not overcome with 
embarrassment at having a party thrust upon 
him, he was an amiable, courteous youth, 
with an easy, pleasant manner. Now, as he 
sat down beside her and began to talk, Mar- 
gery found him an entertaining companion. 
Jim, on his side, thought her '' all right,’^ and 
so famously did they get on together that 
Alec and another of the boys decided to join 
them and share the fun. In whispers that 
were choked with laughter, the four discussed 
the impromptu character of the tea, and also 
the ludicrous aspects of Margery^s accident. 
When it was time to leave, Margery was sure 
that she never had spent so merry an after- 
noon. 


210 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

As they went down the stairs to the car, 
Bunnie slipped her arm through Margery's. 
Having had a delightful time, Bunnie, after a 
fashion of human nature, was rebellious that 
life was not all gayety. 

“ Did you have an awfully dull time with 
no one to talk to ? " she began. '' I had a per- 
fect crowd around me the whole time." 

Margery, secure in Jim's grateful apprecia- 
tion, only smiled. 

That's the kind of time I'd always have," 
Bunnie went on, if it wasn't for Dick. He 
makes such a fuss if I go much with Harry 
Richards, — and then, of course, Grandfather 
takes it up. Nobody seems to realize that 
I'm dying of loneliness ! I'm not a stick or 
a stone — I have to have friends." 

“ Why, Bunnie," exclaimed Margery, '' you 
have plenty of friends I " 

“ Harry is the only one who tries to under- 
stand me," answered Bunnie with a plaintive 
tone in her voice. 

" Why don't you make friends with some 
of the girls ? " suggested Margery. ** I mean, 
be a real chum." 

But who is there?" asked Bunnie, still 


PRINCETON 


21 I 


more plaintively. '‘You and Polly and 
Esther are so absorbed that you have no time 
for other people.'^ 

Margery was silent. 

The last good-byes were said, with Jim and 
lhis friend Alec standing on the curbstone, and 
the travelers were off toward Trenton, where 
they were to spend the night. Margery was 
quiet, absorbed in the beautiful buildings, the 
old trees and the magnolias coming into 
flower. She was thinking of Bunnie, too, not 
quite comprehending, as many an older and 
wiser person has not grasped, that that age- 
old, pathetic plea to be " understood '' might 
be mere rhetoric. 

Bunnie, she felt, needed her friendship ; 
should she make a sacrifice and offer it to 
her ? Bunnie, she knew, would make an ex- 
acting chum. But she really needed some 
one who could take Harry’s place as an " un- 
derstanding ” sympathizer. And could she, 
Margery, pretend to be a mascot, and do less ? 
She sighed deeply. 

Polly turned toward her at the sigh, and 
put her hand affectionately on Margery’s. 
" Did you have a good time, old lady ? ” she 


212 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

asked. You and Jim seemed to be having 
an awfully jolly time together. And, oh, 
weren^t the buildings beautiful ? 

Sam turned around. “ Those cakes of Jim’s 
were fine,” he said. ‘‘ They looked like those 
old Hans made for you, Margery. By the 
way, won’t they get stale unless we eat them 
soon ? ” 

Margery and Mrs. Jameson looked at each 
other and smiled. I think you’ve already 
eaten those cakes,” said Margery demurely. 


CHAPTER XIII 


BUNNIE 

** Polly, did it ever occur to you that Bun- 
nie is lonely ? asked Margery, several days 
after their return from the automobile trip. 

Polly was skeptical. ‘‘Bunnie? Lonely?'' 
she laughed. 

** Well, she is." 

** Well, it's her own fault, then. She could 
have lots of friends if she wanted them. But 
she just wants to be with Harry all the time 
— and maybe one or two of those older boys. 
She thinks we girls are too slow to bother 
about. I invited her to join the L. A. L., but 
she absolutely scorned us." 

** But she's very nice when I go to see her." 

“Of course she is — I'd be nice to you my- 
self I Besides," Polly was still skeptical, 
“ Mr. Morris doesn't like Harry being there 
all the time ; but if you're there, too, he 
213 


214 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

doesn't mind so much. Dick told me that. 
Are you going home now ? If you are, I'll 
drive you out, and spend the afternoon with 
you — provided you want me to, of course." 

Margery was silent ; how should she ex- 
plain to Polly that she had arranged to spend 
the afternoon with Bunnie, and also that she 
felt it her duty to be a mascot to her and give 
her the understanding " friendship she felt 
was needed. '' I — well — I'm going out to see 
Bunnie," she began. 

Well, all right then," answered Polly, 
with apparent readiness, and retreated into 
the post-office, in front of which the conver- 
sation had taken place, where she astonished 
the clerk by asking dreamily for three two- 
cent Margerys." She was feeling puzzled and 
a little hurt. 

Unconscious of the emotions she had 
aroused, Margery went serenely on her way 
through the town, across the old covered 
bridge and out into the country. Before her 
stretched the little strip of woodland lying 
between the Morris farm and Renwyck's 
Town. At present it was full of spring treas- 
ures, and Margery decided on following the 


BUNN IE 21 s 

little rill that here and there in its winding 
course approached the road, and gathering 
anemones and jack-in-the-pulpits for Deborah. 
Suddenly, as she bent over a cluster of frail 
pink blossoms, she heard the soft pad-pad of 
footsteps on the sandy road and peeping 
through the bushes she spied a man coming. 
For a moment her heart stood still, less in 
fear than in the knowledge that she had 
been thoughtlessly disobeying her grand- 
father's strict injunction that she never linger 
alone in the woods. Hoping that her soft 
green sweater and brown skirt would be un- 
noticed amidst the spring verdure, she 
crouched silently down. 

The steps drew nearer and Dick swung into 
view ; not head up and gayly whistling as 
was his wont, but with his hands thrust deep 
into his pockets and his head down. 

Dick I Dick I called Margery. 

Dick stopped and looked about him. 
“ You there, Margery ? he exclaimed in as- 
tonishment. ** What are you doing here? I 
don't believe your grandfather would like 
your being in the woods alone." 

I'm going to your house." 


2i6 MARGERT morris, MASCOT 

“ Rather a sedentary way of doing it, — sit- 
ting there by the brook. Better come along, 
hadn’t you?” 

Margery got up, her hands full of treasures, 
and joined Dick. 

What’s the matter, Dick ? ” asked Mar- 
gery suddenly, her lips voicing her thoughts, 
somewhat to her own surprise. You don’t 
look very cheerful.” 

“ Nothing much — I was just thinking about 
college, that’s all.” 

They trudged along in silence again ; Dick 
was evidently not in a talkative mood. 

But what about college ? ” asked Margery 
as they came out of the woods. Do you 
want to go ? ” 

Yes.” Dick’s answer was discouragingly 
short. ‘‘ You see,” he went on after another 
interval of silence, “ I want to be an archi- 
tect, as Father was. But Grandfather doesn’t 
approve of it. The only college he thinks I 
need is an agricultural college. You see. 
Grandfather owns lots of land and wants me 
to stay on it and run it. He wasn’t happy in 
the city himself and bethinks that he is do- 
ing the kindest thing for me. He’s all the 


BUNNIE 


217 

nior6 koen about it, because Uncle Harry dis- 
appointed him and insisted on going away. 
But of course Uncle Harry had the excuse of 
his health. Oh, I don’t undervalue the 
country life— it’s the happiest life of all— 
for the people that are fitted for it. But I’d 
like to have a taste of something else first.” 

” Can’t you persuade your grandfather to 
let you have a college career, anyway — and 
then decide what you’ll do after you grad- 
uate? ” 

That’s what I want to do — but Grand- 
father doesn’t see it that way. Oh, I suppose 
that I’ll get there some way — people usually 
do if they try hard enough— but I’d rather go 
with Grandfather approving — and without all 
this friction.” 

** It’s too bad,” said Margery, sincerely 
sympathetic. 

Oh, it’ll come out all right in the end,” 
returned Dick, more grateful than he ap- 
peared for her sympathy. '' I’ll just have to 
put myself through college, some way or other. 
I wish I wasn’t so dumb — I’d take a whack 
at that prize at school they are offering.” 

Would that take you to college ? ” 


21 8 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

“ It would take me nearly to the doors — 
and that would be some help. Anyway, it 
might help to convince Grandfather.'^ 

“ But, Dick, I don't see why you say you're 
dumb. You're a wiz at mathematics and 
physics." 

‘‘ Yes, I manage pretty well with them — it's 
history and English that floor me. They 
pull my marks away down, and then Grand- 
father gets disgusted over my reports. I can't 
say that I blame him. The trouble with the 
history and English is that I don’t seem to be 
able to get up enough interest in them. I 
like old Billy Shakespeare, and shine up to 
Richard the First. But I can't take any stock 
in the other people we have to study about. 
It's all one to me whether Milton wrote 
Mother Goose, or worked in a boiler factory, 
— or whether the Magna Charta was a piece 
of music or a new kind of sausage.” 

" Well, I'd study about them, and go in 
and win that prize, and convince your grand- 
father." 

I wish I could," said Dick doubtfully. 

They turned in at the gate of the Morris 
farm, and walked down the avenue of pine- 


BUNN IE 


219 

trees leading to the house. Margery had 
come to know Dick well enough by this time 
to recognize that his ofiPhand manner was 
covering real depression. She felt sorry for 
him, but she could see no way out of his dif- 
ficulties, so with a certain relief she turned to 
Benjamin, running down the avenue to meet 
them. 

** Hello, Margie,'' he cried, throwing his 
arms around her waist, '' I'm awful glad to 
see you, and my puppy can walk on his hind 
legs and Deborah's gone to a missionary meet- 
ing," he rattled on all in a breath. ** Bunnie 
has company. Harry Richards is here — 
Grandfather thinks she ought to have more 
girls come to see her, and not Harry so often. 
Doesn't he, Dick ? " 

Dick frowned, and then laughed. “I can't 
see what Bunnie likes in Harry except his 
taste in socks," and Dick looked down with 
satisfaction at the somewhat vivid articles 
adorning his own ankles. 

Margery smiled to herself, and swinging 
Benjamin's hand in hers, strolled up the 
portico steps and into the house. 

Hello, Margery," Bunnie's voice came 


220 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

from the library. Come in. Harry Rich- 
ards is here.” 

Bannie and Harry were sitting on the sofa, 
a large box of chocolates between them. Mar- 
gery was forced to admit that Harry certainly 

understood ” Bunnie in the matter of candy. 
She herself was already growing tired of the 
young gentleman. She disliked to have to 
sit idly by while Harry and Bunnie indulged 
in endless conversations about nothing at all, 
in which she had no part, and which she con- 
sidered silly. Nothing but her firm determi- 
nation to be a mascot to Bunnie, and to help 
her to better things, made her endure it. 

To-day she was relieved when it was sug- 
gested that they play tennis. Bunnie already 
had on tennis shoes, and Margery was told 
that she would find others in the cupboard of 
Bunnie’s room. Light-heartedly she ran up 
the stairs to that room which had once been 
hers and which seemed so different now that 
another was occupying it. She smiled to 
herself as she tied on the shoes to think 
what a different Margery had first come 
there. 

'‘How I did detest Dick I” she thought, 


BUNNIE 221 

starting down-stairs again. “ Poor Dick— I’m 
afraid he has his troubles.’’ 

She ran swiftly down the stairs, the thin 
rubber soles of her tennis shoes making no 
noise. 

At the open front door, Harry and Bunnie, 
rackets in hand, were standing, talking 
earnestly. “ But I can’t help it, you know, 
Harry,” Bunnie was saying plaintively. “ I 
have to be polite.” 

With a bound Margery cleared the last two 
steps. The speakers in the doorway turned 
sharply, and Harry began to talk rapidly of a 
puppy he had bought the day before. Her 
cheeks flushed, and feeling uncomfortable, she 
scarcely knew why, Margery turned to search 
for a racket in the cupboard under the stairs. 

Dick was discovered back of the house re- 
pairing the tire of his bicycle, and was dragged 
off to be a partner for Margery. They were 
evenly matched opponents, for if Bunnie was 
a better player than Margery, Dick was 
superior to Harry, and the games were long 
and exciting. It was very pleasant in the 
gentle spring sunshine, the cherry-trees beside 
the court were white with bloom, and the air 


222 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

was fragrant from a giant bed of pink and 
white hyacinths in the garden beyond. An- 
tagonisms were forgotten in the interest of the 
game, and Margery found herself thinking 
that after all Harry was rather fun,^^ and 
that he certainly was good-looking. 

An automobile horn sounded from the 
front of the house. ‘'There's Walter," said 
Bunnie. “ Must you go ? " 

“ Fm afraid I'll have to. I have to stop at 
Mrs. Watts for a skirt that she has been 
altering for me. Before Miss Tucker left, she 
and I went to the city together and bought 
some clothes for me, but some of them have 
to be altered." 

As the car started, Harry Richards sprang 
lightly on the running-board, and swung his 
long legs over into the seat beside Margery. 
“ You're a cold little puss," he remarked 
reproachfully. “ Never think of offering a 
fellow a lift when you're going his way I " 

As cordially as she could, Margery ex- 
plained that she had taken it for granted that 
he had come out to the farm in his own little 
runabout. She chattered away gayly, but 
she could not help feeling that her grand- 


BUNNIE 223 

father would not have been pleased had he 
seen her. In common with Bunnie's grand- 
father and Mrs. Jameson, he did not approve 
of young Harry, and had expressed his opinion 
quite frankly that he, for one, did not care to 
have his granddaughter seen with him, un- 
less he made some efforts to improve his ways. 

The car bounced across the old covered 
bridge, turned a corner and stopped at Mrs. 
Watts^ little white cottage. Mrs. Watts her- 
self appeared at the door, and announced if 
they would wait “ a shake,^^ she would wrap 
up the skirt and bring it out. 

Margery rather hoped that Harry would 
seize this opportunity to say good-bye. His 
home was only a block away, and it scarcely 
seemed worth while for him to sit in the car 
waiting with her. Harry, however, plainly had 
no idea of leaving her. He rattled on, laugh- 
ing a good deal, and paying but little attention 
to Margery^s somewhat absent answers. As 
they sat there, waiting for Mrs. Watts^ shake, 
there was the clip-clop-clip of a horse's feet in 
the quiet street, and Polly came up back of 
them in her cart. 

She opened her eyes in astonishment as she 


224 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

saw Margery and Harry sitting together, and 
on such apparent good terms. To her annoy- 
ance, Margery found herself blushing. 

“ Hello, Polly,” Margery called with forced 
vivacity. 

Hello,” said Polly quietly, and drove on. 


CHAPTER XIV 


DICK 

** Well, what is new to-day ? Margery's 
grandfather asked at dinner that evening. 

To the lonely man, Margery's coming had 
opened up a new life. In spite of himself, 
the recluse had been brought out of his seclu- 
sion, and once more in touch with his kind. 
He had come to feel an interest, not only 
in Margery's affairs, but in all that hap- 
pened to the boys and girls who composed her 
circle. Margery understood something, if not 
all, of what it meant to her grandfather, and 
took pains to recount to him any item of 
news that might interest or amuse him. 

** Well," she said, considering, “ I had my 
music lesson. Just as I was leaving Dr. 
Huston came to take Miss Patty out to see 
some of his patients. She cheered Gertrude 
Brown up so well that now he takes her to 
see lots of sick people and sing for them. 

225 


226 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

And then, I saw Polly for a few minutes/' 
Margery hurried over that part of her story ; 
she could scarcely have told why. ** And 
then — oh, yes, I met Dick on the way out to 
see Bunnie. He seemed awfully blue at first. 
After while I found out that it was because 
he wants to go to college and his grandfather 
won’t let him.” 

Won’t let him ? Why not?” 

Because he wants him to * live on the 
land,’ and be a ^ gentleman farmer.’ ” 

He might do that, and still be a farmer. 
I imagine that there’s something back of it. 
Mr. Morris unfortunately holds a peculiar 
rancor against the memory of Dick’s father. 
He never forgave him for running off, when 
he was poor and unknown, with Dick’s 
mother. The old gentleman, for all his 
simple ways of doing things, is proud. 
Dick’s father was an unusually talented 
man — an architect, and they tell me Dick is 
like him in many ways.” 

” I think, too, that part of the trouble is 
that Mr. Morris thinks Dick is stupid.” 

Dick stupid ? I thought that he was 
supposed to be brilliant.” 


DICK 


227 

He is in some things. If he were only 
brilliant in everything — history and litera- 
ture, for instance, he could win the prize — 

the examinations come pretty soon for it 

and show his grandfather.’* 

Mr. Morris was plainly interested, but he 
said nothing more beyond, '' Dick is a fine 
lad. I have great faith in Dick.” 

After dinner, Margery brought out her 
school-books and curled up on the big daven- 
port to wrestle with Csesar. Her grandfather 
sat quietly reading on the other side of the 
fire. 

As she finished her lessons and packed her 
books together, Mr. Morris looked up. '' Mar- 
gery,” he began. 

Yes, Grandpapa.” 

'‘Margery, why don’t you tell Dick that 
you and I will help him with his work if he 
cares to come out here in the evenings. Dick 
has a good brain, and is interested in things 
that are worth while. I believe that the 
trouble lies in old-fashioned, wooden methods 
of teaching.” 

Margery was fond of Dick and thoroughly 
enjoyed his society, but she groaned a little in 


228 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

spirit at the thought of the extra studying 
involved. She herself had no trouble in 
grasping enough of the intricacies of English 
history and the peculiarities of literature to 
make a fairly creditable showing, and she felt 
that to have to know more would be a bore. 

Nevertheless, she said obediently, Very 
well. Grandpapa, I’ll speak to him to-mor- 
row.” 

She met Dick the next morning just as he 
was entering the school gate and stopped to 
tell him of her grandfather’s plan. '' Sure, 
I’ll come,” Dick said gratefully. It’s mighty 
nice of you, Margery, to do that for me.” 

” It was Grandpapa,” Margery was begin- 
ning honestly, when Dick cut in with : 

“ I hope I shan’t disappoint you — that’s 
all.” 

You won’t disappoint me,” Margery an- 
swered cordially, if ambiguously. 

Promptly at quarter past seven that even- 
ing Dick appeared at the White House Farm. 
Margery and her grandfather were sitting be- 
fore a small fire in the library, while Margery 
read aloud the evening paper. 

Well, Dick,” said Mr. Morris, '' I’m glad 


DICK 


229 

to see you. This little girl of mine is feeling 
somewhat homesick, and perhaps you can help 
to cheer her up.^^ 

“ Why, Grandpapa,^^ cried Margery aston- 
ished, how did you know that I was home- 
sick ? 

Mr. Morris laughed and poked the fire in 
answer. Your father and mother will be 
here soon,’^ he said, turning to the bookcase 
behind him and bringing out a big illus- 
trated volume of Sir Walter Besant's “Old 
London.” Besides being a remarkably kind- 
hearted man, Mr. Morris was one of wide 
reading and cultivation. He was fond of 
Dick, and understanding the boy, realized 
that all he needed was to be inspired and in- 
terested. Accordingly, he began to talk about 
the England of Addison's day — Dick, he knew 
from Margery, having particular trouble with 
the Sir Roger de Coverly Papers — describing 
with vivid, amusing touch the fine ladies of 
the time with their paint and powder, their 
“ vapors ” and affectations ; the bands of roy- 
stering, gay young men who after nightfall 
made the streets a terror for respectable, timid 
citizens ; the cofiee houses where the fops 


230 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

showed off the latest fads in lace ruffles and 
powdered wigs, and the brilliant men of letters 
made their wittiest or wisest speeches. 

Dick was interested and asked questions 
that were keen and intelligent. Mr. Morris 
was delighted with his pupil, and when at 
nine o^clock Dick left, they were both sincere 
in declaring that they had spent an unusually 
pleasant evening. 

After that Dick came almost every evening, 
and Margery learned to enjoy those quiet 
evenings in the big library. There would be 
a small fire on the hearth for Mr. Morris’s 
comfort, although the windows were left open 
to admit the soft spring breezes and the fra- 
grance of the spring nights. Dick, too, en- 
joyed the evenings ; the history and literature 
that he had found so boring became fascinat- 
ing. The Magna Charta he had declared so 
uninteresting he came to see as the mother of 
the Declaration of Independence. In the 
history of the older land he saw the long 
struggle of the Anglo-Saxon for freedom and 
democracy, with its pushing out of the 
stronger, restless natures to America— and the 
final revolt of the Colonies from its German 


DICK 


231 

king ; a grandson of that German whom the 
Scotch had satirized with : 

Wha do ye think we hae gotten for a king^ 

But a wee, wee German lairdie ! 

An’ when they gaed tae bring him ower, 

He was delvin’ in his ain kail yairdie ! ” 

and against whom many of them had risen in 
brave if unsuccessful rebellion. 

I say, Margery, ventured Dick one 
evening as he and Margery walked up and 
down on the brick terrace while Mr. Morris 
finished his after dinner doze, couldn't you 
try to make Bunnie and Harry more sensible 
when they are together ? They are so awfully 
silly— and well, soft, and— and"— he hesitated 
and stammered a little, '' Polly's a nice girl 
too." 

I know Polly's a nice girl, as well as you 
do," answered Margery, heatedly. She had 
been a little hurt by Polly's unusual reserve 
lately. But I can't help it if Polly doesn't 
want to do things, can I ? I asked her to spend 
the night here to-night, but she said she had 
another engagement." 

Perhaps she thinks that you have rather 


232 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

neglected her for Bunnie and Harry/^ sug- 
gested Dick. He had called at the Jamesons’ 
to return a book that afternoon, and had 
found Polly as out-of-sorts as it was in her 
sweet, happy nature to be, and in a mood to 
be confidential. Being genuinely fond of both 
girls, Dick was anxious to blow away the 
cloud that seemed to be absurdly rising on 
their horizon. 

Well, she thinks wrong then,” Margery 
declared. '' Pm just as fond of Polly as I can 
be — fonder than I am of any other girl. Pm 
only with Bunnie such a lot because the other 
girls aren’t kind and understanding to her 
and she needs me.” 

Oh,” said Dick blankly. 

Margery felt that it was entirely too bad of 
Polly and Dick and everybody to misunder- 
stand her. She felt, too, despairingly, that 
instead of pulling Bunnie up to her standards, 
she was descending to Bunnie’s. At first she 
had considered Bunnie and Harry and their 
conversations and actions as utterly vapid and 
silly; now she found herself accepting them 
as a matter of course, and even imitating 
them. 


DICK 


233 

Walter came around the house from the 
stable and spoke to her, interrupting her 
thoughts. '' I went to town for Mr. Morris, 
Miss Margery,"' he said, ‘‘and 1 stopped at the 
post-office on the way out — the mail was late 
this afternoon." 

Margery took the letters he held out to her ; 
in the dusk her fingers recognized the thin 
foreign paper on which her mother always 
wrote. “ Goody," she cried, switching on the 
porch light by the door, “ here's a letter from 
Mamma I " 

With eagerness she tore open the envelope 
and held the pages up to the light. “ Dearest 
little girl," she read. “ Do you remember the 
motto you wrote me the doctor had taught 
you about kindness in your neighbor's trouble 
and courage in your own ? Well, I want you 
to use all your courage now, and be as brave 
as you can, and not let dear Grandpapa see 
that you are disappointed." Margery paused 
and with beating heart skimmed through the 
pages until she should find what it was about 
which her mother was urging her to be brave. 
Here it was : 

“We find that we cannot possibly be back 


234 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

until the middle of July, or more likely, the 
first of August/^ 

Dick spoke at her elbow. Not bad news, 
I hope.^^ 

Margery raised brimming eyes. '' Yes,” 
she nodded, too miserable to speak, and dis- 
appeared into the house. 


CHAPTER XV 


GOSSIP 

During recess the next morning, Polly 
slipped her arm through Margery's and drew 
her aside. ‘‘Margery Daw," she confided, 
“ I'm going to give a party." 

“A party? Oh, Polly, how perfect 1 
When?" 

“ The day of the boys' tennis tournament 
at the country club. We are going to ask a 
lot of the girls, and the boys who aren't play- 
ing, to watch the games, and then afterward 
we'll have refreshments for everybody in the 
club-house, and maybe dance. You'll be sure 
to come, — and to help me make things go, 
won't you ? " 

“ Indeed I will," promised Margery readily. 
She would have promised to aid in anything, 
even had it been far less entrancing than a 
party, for the pleasure ol seeing the little 
cloud lift that had arisen between her and 
235 


236 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

Polly. I’d simply love to. And, do you 
know, Polly, it^s comforting to have some- 
thing to look forward to — for I’m as blue as 
blue can be. I had a letter from Mamma last 
night, and she and Papa won^t be back until 
the middle of July, or, more likely, the first 
of August! Isn’t it awful? I try to keep 
Grandpapa from knowing how I feel about it 
— but I am awfully blue.” 

Polly’s quick, responsive sympathy was 
cheering, and as they walked arm in arm, 
under the old trees, Margery’s heart grew 
lighter. 

** Polly,” she said suddenly, do you know 
we haven’t had a meeting of the L. A. L. for 
ages ? ” 

'' You’ve been doing other things,” Polly 
said quietly. '' Esther and I had a meeting 
the other afternoon, all to ourselves. We 
each wrote an account of the Princeton visit, 
and Mother sent them to Mrs. Matthews, as 
she thought they might amuse her. Margery, 
do you know, we’ve been wondering if it 
wouldn’t be better to turn the L. A. L. into a 
cooking club.” 

Oh, but Polly, Lady Anne Lindsay was 


GOSSIP 


237 

a poetess, not a cook. And remember, we 
named it after her particularly.^^ 

Yes, but remember what Father always 
quotes to Mother when Missouri is particu- 
larly trying : ^ We may live without friends, 
we may live without books; but civilized 
man cannot live without cooks.' If we had a 
cooking club we could have Bunnie, and 
then, every once in a while, we could give a 
dinner and ask the boys to it. You and 
Bunnie might like that better. Oh, by the 
way, Margery," Polly hesitated and looked 
uncomfortable, ** we aren't going to invite 
Harry to the party. Father is a sort of guard- 
ian of his, you know, and when he spoke to 
him the other evening about the way he is 
spending too much money, and making his 
mother so unhappy and worried, Harry was 
awfully saucy to him, and told him to ' attend 
to his own affairs,' and so forth." 

Margery slipped her arm closer around 
Polly's waist. '' Polly," she began, it's be- 
cause of Bunnie " She was about to say, 

** It is because of Bunnie's loneliness and need 
of a friend, and not because of Harry Richards 
that I am with them so much," but the school 


238 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

bell rang just then, and the golden opportunity 
was lost. 

Bravely as she tried to keep her grand- 
father from discovering how disappointed she 
felt over the postponement of her parents' 
coming, Margery could not conceal a telltale 
wistfulness. Her grandfather, full of sym- 
pathy, glanced at her every now and then 
with a sigh, and cleared his throat ; old Kiley 
was pitying to the point of concocting the 
most delicious and indigestible desserts in the 
cook-book ; even Waldo, the big mastiff, 
slipped his head up under her arm and 
wagged his stump of a tail in commiseration. 
Margery smiled as cheerfully as she could on 
the household, although she would have be- 
dewed her pillow every night with tears had 
not sleep persisted in catching her first. 

She saw Polly only once again after their con- 
versation, for Polly, gardening in damp earth 
with more ardor than discretion, had renewed 
a heavy cold and been ordered to seclusion and 
bed by the doctor. Nevertheless, they held fre- 
quent delightful, and on Polly's part husky, 
conversations over the telephone on the sub- 
ject of the approaching party, at which Polly 


GOSSIP 239 

declared she was going to appear, even if she 
had to croak like a frog, have her neck 
swathed in red flannel bandages, and gargle 
every five minutes with the concoction of 
honey and onions recommended by Missouri. 

Full of anticipation, Margery took one of 
her new frocks, a pale blue batiste, to Mrs. 
Watts to have such alterations made as were 
needed to insure its perfect fit. Mrs. Watts 
took the business of dressmaking seriously, 
and their conferences were long and serious 
over the relative merits of hooks and snap- 
pers, and the superiority of a six inch to a five 
inch hem. 

Once or twice she met the doctor on the 
street, and stopped him to extol Miss Patty 
and to dwell on the pleasure her visits gave to 
Gertrude Brown. He agreed with her cor- 
dially ; in fact, Margery would have preferred 
a more lover-like coyness, but she consoled 
herself with the fact that the doctor was no 
longer young, and that she must not expect 
too much. 

Bunnie came almost every afternoon to see 
her, and soon after her arrival Harry Richards 
would come drifting in, and when the time 


240 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

came would take her home in his small run- 
about. Margery wished that helping Bunnie 
did not include quite so much of Harry^s so- 
ciety, but she bore it with what grace she could, 
thankful that they usually preferred to be on 
the croquet ground or in the garden, where 
their chatter could not disturb her grand- 
father or lead him to ask too many questions. 

At half-past seven every evening Dick ap- 
peared, and Margery grew to enjoy the hour 
of study almost as much as did Dick and her 
grandfather, and her marks at school became 
quite phenomenal. 

The morning of Polly^s party arrived, and 
Mrs. Watts, prostrate on her hands and knees, 
with her head down like an Arab praying to 
Mecca, solemnly inspected Margery^s new blue 
batiste from that angle. ‘‘ Yes, that hangs 
perfectly grand, she murmured, her face 
against the carpet. “Now keep still, and 
screw around to the right — just a scrimption I 
Now — just a mite to the left. Yes, that hangs 
perfectly even. 

Margery obediently “ screwed to the right 
and the left, and tried not to giggle. 

“ Now then,^' said Mrs. Watts, rising to her 


GOSSIP 241 

feet, ‘‘you^ll be able to wear it to the party 
this afternoon. Funny what a lot of altera- 
tion it took, wasn’t it? You won’t mind 
settin’ an’ waitin’, will you, while I sew on the 
snappers down the placket ? ” 

“ No, indeed. I’ll be glad to.” 

Mrs. Watts sat down by one window with 
the skirt in her lap, while Margery sat by the 
other, idly turning over the leaves of a fashion- 
book and glancing now and then out into the 
quiet old-fashioned street, so charming now 
in its spring-time green. 

This street is pretty quiet,” observed Mrs. 
Watts, glancing up over her spectacles. ** And 
yet a body does see a lot, too. There’s a good 
many takes a short cut through here instead 
of going around to the main street and past 
the hotel. Your friend Miss Polly Jameson 
goes through here quite often, it bein’ the 
back way to their stable. I’ve often seen you 
with her. ‘ My, them girls is thick,’ I says to 
Mrs. Stenton one day — I was makin’ up her 
black cashmere— no, it was her alpaca; she 
had cashmere last year. An’ Mrs. Stenton, 
she says, * Yes, they certainly are.’ Now- 
adays, I see you sometimes with Miss Morris 


242 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

and Harry Richards. Well, Harry is a fine 
looking fellow ; I don^t wonder all you girls 
are crazy about him.’^ 

Margery rocked back and forth impatiently 
in the little rocking-chair. She did wish, she 
thought wearily, that people would stop tak- 
ing it for granted that she was so overcome 
by the charms of Harry's society. 

There goes Mrs. Gail," babbled on Mrs. 
Watts without waiting for a reply ; her son's 
just engaged himself to a girl from Easton. 
An' there goes Miss Patty Kirkby. I see her 
sometimes with Dr. Huston. ^ Funny if they 
should make a match,' I says to myself, some- 
times." 

Margery tried to look unconscious, but only 
succeeded in looking very mysterious and 
significant. Mrs. Watts looked at her in sur- 
prise. “Know anything?" she asked with 
kindly interest. “ I certainly would be glad 
to see some happiness come for Miss Patty — 
even if the doctor is kinda old for her. I'm 
mighty fond of Miss Patty — in the old days 
when they had money and I was just 
gettin' a start the Kirkbys was awful good 
to me." 


GOSSIP 


243 

Margery hesitated; she had been brought 
up to abhor all appearance even of gossip. 
On the other hand, Mrs. Watts was so evi- 
dently kindly intentioned toward Miss Patty 
and so interested that to refuse to discuss the 
matter would be to snub her. “ Well,"' she 
temporized, I certainly have hopes for it.'' 

“ I ain't never seen a sweeter, patienter per- 
son than Miss Patty Kirkby, and Dr. Huston 
would make her a good husband, I guess — at 
any rate he'd try his best." 

“ What's that ? " said a voice from the door- 
way. They looked up. Mrs. Stenton, a 
customer of Mrs. Watts', stood in the doorway. 
" What's that you were saying about Miss 
Kirkby ? " she demanded again. 

Mrs. Watts pulled a chair forward. ''If 
you don't mind waiting a few minutes, Mrs. 
Stenton, until I finish this for Miss Margery, 
I'll have your dress all ready. It looks 
fine — that lace you sent is awful dressy." 

Mrs. Stenton sat down with an annoyed 
expression. " I can wait, if you aren't too 
long." She reached for a fashion-book. 
" You were talking about Miss Patty Kirkby? " 
she remarked tentatively, as she turned the 


244 MARGERT morris, MASCOT 

leaves. ** I heard you saying that she is to 
marry Dr. Huston. 

Mrs. Watts threw a warning glance to Mar- 
gery that said plainly Mrs. Stenton was not 
to be trusted. “ Umm, yes — we did mention 
it,” she mumbled, biting off a thread. 

Mrs. Stenton turned another page. She 
was a tall, gaunt woman with a thin-lipped, 
sarcastic mouth, who being well-to-do and 
related to almost every one of importance in 
Renwyck's Town was tolerated, although she 
had neither amiability nor good sense to 
recommend her. She had been a girlhood 
friend of Miss Patty^s, and had never been 
quite able to forgive her for the fact that she 
evinced neither envy nor admiration for Mrs. 
Stenton^s pretty house, faultfinding husband 
and ill-bred children, but had gone on her 
own serene, cheerful way. 

Well, the doctor's too old for her,” she 
shrugged now, but I suppose that it is the 
best she can do. I always said that affair 
with Duncan Patterson would never last.” 

Margery's cheeks flamed scarlet. Her be- 
loved doctor to be spoken about like this by 
that odious woman! Dr. Huston, who had 


GOSSIP 


245 

been so kind to her when she needed it, and 
who had taken such good care of her when 
she was ill I And Miss Patty, dear Miss 
Patty I 

I consider Dr. Huston perfectly delight- 
ful,” she said haughtily, standing up and 
looking very tall and dignified indeed. ” And 
so does my grandfather. And everybody 
agrees that Miss Patty is charming and abso- 
lutely wasted here.” 

‘‘ I — I always thought Duncan Patterson 
was powerful sweet on Miss Patty,” faltered 
Mrs. Watts, meekly anxious to pour oil on 
the troubled waters. There, Miss Margery, 
your dress is done now.” 

Mrs. Stenton rose and began to undo her 
collar before the pier-glass. ” I always said 
Duncan Patterson never cared for Patty,” she 
said calmly. 

Mrs. Watts wrapped up the dress, and Mar- 
gery left, still warm with loyal indignation. 


CHAPTER XVI 
folly's pakty 

It's a perfect day for Polly's party, isn’t 
it, Grandpapa?” said Margery at luncheon. 

Mr. Morris helped himself to asparagus. 
“ Yes,” he said absently, very fine, very fine. 
Is this asparagus from our garden or from 
the market, Katie? I wish you'd find out. 
What’s that you were saying, Margery ? Oh, 
yes, about Polly's party.” 

It will be lovely out at the club,” Mar« 
gery remarked dreamily. ‘‘ I love the river 
and the boats, particularly the big sailing 
vessels, and — and everything. I've promised. 
Grandpapa, to go out early and help Polly — 
won't it be fun?” 

As she rose from the table, Margery 
thought to herself that one of the nicest 
things about the party was that Harry Rich- 
ards would not be there. He had been making 
her feel uncomfortable of late. While he still 
246 


POLLrS PARTT 247 

talked more to Bunnie than to Margery he 
had a provoking little way of taking it for 
granted that he and she had some special un- 
derstanding and he was always teasing her 
about being cold and dignified. She was dis- 
appointed too in the results of her friendship 
with Bunnie. That Bunnie had a certain 
force and could be quite capable, Margery had 
to admit, but her overwhelming conceit and 
her inability to recognize the existence of any 
one else had grown wearing. Her manner- 
ism, too, of constantly preening herself and 
saying '' Now, I’m different from other peo- 
ple” had come to be very annoying. But 
most of all, Margery felt a certain lack of sin- 
cerity. 

Puzzling over these things, Margery went 
up to her room to inspect the new blue frock, 
which she had asked Sarah to give a final 
pressing. It was spread out on the bed in 
state, and Margery was bending over it, think- 
ing how fresh and spring-like it looked, when 
Sarah appeared at the door. 

'' Miss Margery,” she announced, Miss 
Bunnie, and Mr. Harry Richards are down- 
stairs to see you.” 


248 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

Bother ! With a sigh Margery turned 
from her frock, and went slowly down the 
stairs, across the wide hall, out to the front 
steps. Bunnie and Harry were there in 
Harry's little runabout. 

‘‘ Come on," cried Bunnie. We want you 
to come with us to Monroe — Harry has to get 
a hat his mother has had trimmed there." 

Oh, Bunnie — I can’t I It’s Polly’s party 
to-day." 

Yes, I know — I’m going, too. But it’s 
only quarter of two now, and we’ll be back in 
plenty of time. Polly doesn’t expect any one 
until four, you know." 

Yes, I know. But I have to dress — be- 
sides, I’m to go early and help Polly." 

Harry looked at her with that half teasing, 
half admiring expression she had come to 
hate. ** Does it take you all that time to 
prink?" he laughed. ''And what a good 
little girl to get there exactly on time 1 " 

Margery flushed, but she stood her ground 
firmly. " No — I’m really ever so sorry, but 
I cannot go." 

" Oh, Margery," Bunnie cried, " you’ll have 
to. I promised Grandfather faithfully that 


POLLrS P^RTT 


249 

j^ou would go. You wouldn^t have me break 
my word, would you ? — I^m the kind of per- 
son that keeps my word, you know.^' 

Margery hesitated. Of all arguments this 
was the one most likely to win her ear. 

We won^t be long,'' Bunnie continued, ** I 
promise you. And it would mean a lot to 
me, for I do so want to go. It would be such 
a favor I " 

Margery sighed and went back to the house. 
After all, it was not much to do for a friend. 
She would be back in plenty of time to dress 
for the party, even though she could not make 
her toilette quite as daintily painstaking as 
she had intended. She took her hat and 
sweater from the little coat-room under the 
stairs, and peeped into the library half in 
hopes that her grandfather would forbid her 
going. He was asleep, however, his hand- 
some head with its white hair cameo-like 
against the dark green corduroy of the chair 
cover. With another sigh, Margery went out 
and climbed into the runabout. 

Monroe was the next town, a prosperous 
little place with good markets, and the road 
was familiar to her. To-day she found it 


250 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

even more uninteresting than usual, and she 
did not enjoy being crowded in the narrow 
runabout. The only consolation she had was 
that Harry ran the car quickly and the way 
seemed unusually short. The bonnet was not 
ready when they reached Monroe, so Harry 
and Bunnie decided on visiting the popular 
little Peek-Inn tea-room, while the milli- 
ner finished sewing on the trimming and put 
in the lining. 

Margery had already been to the tea-room 
and thought it a delightful little place with 
its gray painted walls, and quaint tables and 
chairs of bright canary yellow, and the framed 
fashion-plates of long-ago Godey's Magazines 
showing simpering ladies in hoop skirts and 
pantalettes. But the tea-house to-day had no 
charms for her. She protested in vain, how- 
ever, and before she knew it found herself 
eating ice-cream at one of the little yellow 
tables, and staring with thoughtful eyes at a 
bunch of buttercups in a birch-bark basket. 

‘‘ Only twenty minutes of three now,— I 
don't believe that hat's ready yet," said Harry, 
looking at his watch as they rose to go. 

Let's go to the movies for half an hour. 


POLLT^S PARTT 251 

They have corkiDg shows here. We^l get 
you home in plenty of time, Margery. It 
didn t take us quite twenty minutes to come 
over.” 

Margery frowned. She was provoked, and 
she had a feeling that it was just like Harry's 
trifiingness to have a mother whose hats were 
not ready on tinle. Bunnie, too, she saw was 
making no effort to get back quickly to 
Renwyck's Town. 

“ You will get home in plenty of time,” 
Bunnie consoled her. And with your lovely 
hair and complexion it doesn't take you long 
to dress — all that you have to do is to bunch 
back your curls and wash your face, and step 
into your frock — and there you are I '' 

Again Margery frowned. Never had her 
hair and complexion seemed of less value to 
her. 

'‘Of course,'' went on Harry, in a half 
amused, half contemptuous tone as though 
he were speaking to a fractious child, you 
can walk back to Renwyck's Town if you 
wish, but I think you'd be wiser if you waited 
and went back with me in the car.'' 

Bunnie giggled, and Margery's spirit, none 


252 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

too meek and gentle at the best of times, took 
fire. Her cheeks blazed with indignation, 
but she realized that she had no power over 
the situation, and after all, she decided, Harry 
would probably get her home in time. 

Very well,'' she said stiffly, turning to- 
ward the moving-picture theatre, I wouldn't 
disturb your pleasure for an instant." 

The first film consoled her somewhat, for it 
was a series of pictures of her native city and 
state, and she sat entranced. Some day, she 
thought, she would be back there again and 
there would be no Harry or Bunnie to com- 
plicate life for her. 

The next reel was not so pleasant, and she 
sat through a sketch labeled “comic" in 
which several highly intoxicated gentlemen 
smashed crockery and upset waiters in in- 
numerable caf6s and restaurants. She grew 
conscious that the hall was dark and close, 
and began to think again of Polly's party. 

“ Come on," she whispered to Bunnie next 
to her. “ Let's go."« 

“ Oh — no — the feature is just beginning." 

Despairing, Margery sat back, while a typ- 
ical film melodrama unfolded itself before her 


POLLrS PARTT 253 

eyes. The plot concerned itself with the ad- 
ventures of a lovely heroine with youthful 
cannon curls and round eyes that rolled inces- 
santly, who evidently had as many lives as a 
cat. She was tied to the connecting-rod of a 
runaway engine ; lost in the desert ; dropped 
from a balloon into a lake ; rescued from a 
burning building ; saved from a sinking ship ; 
chased by Indians ; captured by the Black 
Hand, and finally, after a hand-to-hand battle 
with a gang of pirates, was happily betrothed 
to the most sturdy and many lived of her 
lovers, he who had endured many of her little 
hardships with her. 

Come on,'' said Harry, toward the end of 
the love scenes. This is getting tame. 
Let's see if that hat is ready yet." 

They rose and stumbling over people's feet 
in the dark made their way out. 

What time is it now, Harry ? " asked 
Margery as the hat in its bandbox was de- 
livered to them and tied on the back of the 
car. '' My watch has stopped." 

Quarter of four," said Harry briefly. 
** We'll have to beat it." 

** Beat it " they did. Margery, not a 


254 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

nervous or apprehensive person, held her 
breath in terror as they swept around corners, 
cut in front of other cars, and finally swung 
into the long straight road that led to Ren- 
wyck's Town. 

“ We’ll be arrested for speeding,” shrieked 
Bunnie, hanging on to her hat with both 
hands. 

“ Don’t care if we are,” shouted back Harry. 

Great Scott ! ” 

With a sickening lurch the car skidded on 
a wet spot in the road, and before they knew 
what had happened they had crashed into a 
fence and landed in the ditch beyond. 


CHAPTER XVII 

MARGERY TRFES THE TELEPHONE 

Fortunately, the ditch was shallow and 
its banks were of a heavy, thick black soil 
that held the car’s wheels firmly and pre- 
vented it from overturning. 

Being young, their first impulse was to 
laugh, and they sat still in the car and 
shouted with mirth. Then Margery, her mind 
very much on Polly’s party, opened the door 
beside her and standing on the running- 
board made a flying leap over the edge of the 
ditch to the grassy bank beyond. 

“ No damage, is there ? ” she asked with an 
apprehensive glance at the wheels. 

Harry climbed out and helped Bunnie to 
alight. “ No, there doesn’t seem to be any- 
thing wrong as far as I can see,” he answered 
after kicking the tires to test them, and in- 
specting the steering gear. “ Can’t tell until 
266 


256 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

we get her out of here, — and that^s going to 
be some job. 141 have to get help.” 

“ Can4 we telephone ? ” suggested Margery. 
“ We can get Walter to come for us.” 

The nearest house is the Powells^” Harry 
answered briefly, and that’s a good mile and 
a half from here. There’s a man over there 
on the knob harrowing — I’ll see if he can 
help.” 

Harry made his way across the ditch and 
over the field, while Bunnie and Margery 
perched on the fence a little farther down the 
road where a horse-chestnut spread its shade. 

“ I just knew something of this kind would 
happen,” groaned Margery. 

” Oh, you’ll get back before long,” consoled 
Bunnie. “ Don’t be so nervous. It won’t hurt 
Polly anyway, if everybody doesn’t go to her 
old party.” 

Margery was silent, too angry to trust her- 
self to speak. 

” She might have asked Harry, it seems to 
me,” Bunnie went on. There’s no sense in 
being so prim and old-maidey. Now, I’m 
the kind of person who believes in having all 
the fun you can.” 



there’ s no sense in being so prim 


y y 



TRIES THE TELEPHONE 257 

** I^m sure Polly did perfectly right/^ de- 
clared Margery loyally. 

Bunnie shrugged her shoulders and in- 
spected the polish on her finger nails. Mar- 
gery sat silent, impatiently tapping with her 
heel against the fence-post. Suddenly, she 
sprang to the ground. '‘Where did Harry 
say that telephone is ? ” she demanded. 

“ He didn^t say.” 

“ Oh, yes, he did. He said there is a tele- 
phone somewhere about.” 

” Oh, I forgot. He did remark something 
about there being a ’phone a mile and a half 
down the road.” 

“ I’m going to walk to it.” 

Bunnie looked up from her finger nails and 
laughed. “ You had better stay put. You’ll 
never in the world get there I It’s funny 
about me — I suppose I’m different from other 
people — but I believe in having sense enough 
to know when you’re well oflf*.” 

“ Which direction did Harry say it is in?” 

“ He didn’t say,” answered Bunnie again, 
teasingly this time. 

Unable to think of a sufficiently crushing 
]^tort, Margery squeezed through the fence 


258 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

without deigning another word, and hurried 
along the side of the ditch in search of a 
place narrow enough for her to jump across. 
Harry had managed the leap quite easily, but 
Margery was neither as tall nor as strong and 
she was hampered by her skirts. As she 
landed on the opposite side of the ditch, she 
slipped and fell full length, her right foot in 
the sticky black mud. With a rueful glance 
at her new tan pumps she picked herself up, 
and after scrubbing off the mud as best she 
could with a handful of rushes, hurried across 
the field to the knoll where Harry was bar- 
gaining, none too good-naturedly, with the 
plowman for the use of his horses. 

Harry,” she called as soon as she was 
within hailing distance, how long will it 
take you to pull out the ear? ” 

”What?” 

How long will it take you to pull out the 
car?” 

'' Say it louder. I can't hear you ! ” 

Margery ran forward a few steps. How — 
long — will — it — take — you — to — pull — out — 
the — car?” she shrieked, making a mega- 
phone of her hands. 


TRIES THE TELEPHONE 259 

** Oh, I don't know." 

Margery ran forward another yard or two. 
“Where did you say I could telephone from ? " 

Harry waved his arm vaguely. “Down 
the road, at the Powells'. I used to buy 
pigeons there — and I know they have a 
'phone," he shouted, and turned back to his 
discussion with the man. 

She advanced still nearer. “ I'm going to 
go ahead," she announced. “ I want to tele- 
phone to Polly. You can pick me up when 
you come along." 

“ All right," Harry agreed impatiently. 
The plowman, finding that nobody was hurt, 
was not eager to take his horses away from 
their work to put them to pulling out a car 
which “ that young idiot " had carelessly put 
in a ditch ; and Harry's somewhat bumptious 
manner had not helped his cause. 

Not risking another jump across the ditch, 
Margery followed its side until she found a 
board laid from bank to bank. Pausing for 
a moment by the roadside, she waved to 
Bunnie, still perched on the fence under the 
tree, before she started off in search of the 
telephone. 


26 o MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

Never did a mile and a half seem longer. 
She walked too rapidly and a “ stitch came 
in her side ; and she became almost unbear- 
ably thirsty. The day, which had been so 
beautiful earlier, now seemed to her cruelly 
warm and oppressive. Innumerable auto- 
mobiles and wagons, all of them driven by 
strangers and going in the opposite direction, 
passed her. 

What hot, glaring, dismal things spring 
days are,'' she sighed. “ How selfish the peo- 
ple are who have carriages and automobiles," 
she added wrathfully. “ Here I am trudging 
along and not one person thinks of giving me 
a lift." Realization came to her, and she 
laughed and sighed, as she considered how 
often she had passed with scarcely a glance 
some weary, plodding wayfarer. 

What a difference the point of view does 
make," she thought. Oh, joy 1 " as a turn 
in the road disclosed a little house tucked 
away amid some tall old pear trees. There’s 
the place." 

Despite a blister beginning to assert its 
presence on her heel where her new pumps 
bad rubbed, she hurried along the road until 


TRIES THE TELEPHONE 261 

she reached a weather-beaten gate sagging on 
its hinges. 

“ What a forlorn, ill-kept place,” she ob- 
served to herself disapprovingly as she started 
up the path leading through the unkempt 
dooryard to the old brick house, once hand- 
some but now shabby and run-down, chickens 
roosting on the front porch and bedding hang- 
ing from the windows. “I wouldn’t allow 
my home to look like this if I had to work 
all night to straighten things up.” 

A yellow dog as unkempt as the dooryard 
suddenly woke up from a nap on the front 
steps and rushed at her, barking violently. 
Margery, usually popular with dogs, held out 
her hand to him. “ Hello, nice fellow,” she 
said soothingly. 

The mongrel, evidently more used to blows 
than to kindness, mistook her outstretched 
hand for a threat ; with a growl he retreated 
into a clump of bushes, from where, barking 
furiously, he made spasmodic pretences of 
rushing out at her. 

To the average person there is something 
especially mortifying in being distrusted by a 
dog, and the more lowly the animal, the 


262 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

greater the humiliation. Oh, be quiet, you 
silly thing, cried Margery, insulted, and 
marched up the path with a dignity that 
tried to be oblivious of yelping little curs. 

From the corner of the house, a fat, swarthy 
woman, with a curly-headed, dirty-faced ur- 
chin clinging to her skirts, appeared to inves- 
tigate the commotion. 

*^May I use your telephone asked Mar- 
gery politely. 

The woman beamed. No spik Inglis.^' 
Oh, yes,^^ said Margery blankly. May I 
use your telephone?'' she added, feeling, as is 
our charming way with foreigners, that if she 
only spoke loud enough the woman would 
understand her. 

The woman smiled even more broadly than 
before. No spik Inglis, " she repeated. 

Despairingly, Margery resorted to dumb- 
show ; held an imaginary receiver to her ear 
and telephoned into the empty air to the 
great delight of the wide-eyed urchin. 

** No spik Inglis," the woman reiterated, 
shaking her head. The child tugged at her 
skirt and said something in Italian. She 
laughed with pleasure and clapped her hands. 


TRIES THE TELEPHONE 263 

and the child darted off to reappear a few 
minutes later with a boy of about sixteen 
carrying a hoe, who announced that he spoke 
English. 

Margery stated her mission, and the boy 
explained volubly that they were Italian fruit 
growers who had just moved on the place 
and that they had no telephone, but that she 
could use the one in the next house down the 
road to the right. Smiling and nodding her 
thanks, Margery hurried off, the boy shouting 
after her the news, which he evidently 
thought would be welcome, that '' bynby, 
when da business gooda,'' they too would 
have a telephone. 

The next house proved to be about a hun- 
dred yards down the road. Its neat door- 
yard boasted a red-painted gypsy kettle hung 
on three poles and planted with daffodils, as 
well as a dory retired from active service, also 
painted red and filled with brilliant-hued 
tulips, all after a once popular country taste. 

'' Of course, they have a 'phone here," Mar- 
gery thought with satisfaction as she lifted 
the heavy brass knocker on the front door 
and let it fall with a resounding bang. 


264 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

The sound died away, and Margery stood 
listening for approaching footsteps withm the 
house. None came and a little apprehensively 
she lifted the knocker again. 

“ It would be a nice mess, wouldnT it,^' 
she thought nervously, if nobody^s home. 
Polly will never speak to me again, I know, 
unless I get to her party in time, or explain 
to her.’' 

Again, she dropped the knocker ; and there 
was silence. And, still again, she knocked ; 
and yet again. She tried walking across the 
narrow porch as loudly as she could, and 
finally, she even rattled the handle of the 
door. 

“ ril have to try the back door,” she la- 
mented. I do hope Harry and Bunnie won’t 
go past while I’m there.” 

She ran out to the road ; there was no one in 
sight. Oh, dear,” she sighed, and hurried 
to the back of the house. 

This time her efforts were rewarded ; there 
was the sound of rapid footsteps and a girl 
of about her own age, clad in a pale pink 
kimono which she clutched together at the 
throat, appeared at the door. 


TRIES THE TELEPHONE 265 

WhatGV6r is the matter ? demanded the 
girl. ** I was asleep,” she added accusingly, 
putting her hand to her front hair, which had 
been wrapped on whalebone curlers and stood 
out from her head like horns. 

“ May I use your telephone ? ” asked Mar- 
gery, fairly babbling in her eagerness. The 
automobile I was in fell into the ditch — and I 
want to telephone to my friend who was ex- 
pecting me at a tennis party at the club. 
They told me up the road that you had a 
^phone.” 

“ You canT ^phone to-day,” answered the 
girl with a yawn. 

<< W-Why ? ” cried Margery. 

Thone's out of order.” 

Oh I ” 

“ Yes, it got busted yesterday,” explained 
the girl with another yawn. 

But mayn’t I try it ? Perhaps it has been 
fixed without your knowing it.” 

'‘I don’t believe it has.” 

“ But they might have fixed the wires out- 
side the house — and — and you might not 
have known it. Mayn’t I try ? — it’s very 
important.” 


266 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

The girl stood aside from the doorway. 

Well, you can come in,^* she said rather un- 
graciously. I was sound asleep, and I have 
to speak a piece at the Baptist Church to- 
night.^^ She led the way into a comfortable, 
homelike sitting-room, and pointed to a tele- 
phone hanging on the wall. It^s the old- 
fashioned kind — you have to turn the handle 
on the side of the box there.^^ 

Margery took down the receiver, and seiz- 
ing the handle whirled it violently as though 
she had been grinding a coffee-mill. 

'' Hello I Hello I she cried into the mouth- 
piece. 

The telephone was unresponsive. 

Margery ground again ; but no voice from 
central inquired number, please.^^ 

“ They wonT answer,*' complained Margery, 
turning to the yawning girl, who was perched 
on the arm of a chair beside her. 

“ I told you the 'phone was out of order. 
Who did you say you were with when the car 
upset ? Anybody hurt ? " 

** No, nobody was hurt. I was with Harry 
Richards and Miss Morris.” 

“ Oh, Harry Richards,” answered the girl 


TRIES THE TELEPHONE 267 

with 8. littlo mor© animation. ** I know him. 
My nam© s Minni© Pow©ll. H© us©d to com© 
her© to buy pigeons from my brother. He’s 
a queer on©,— he always stares as though he 
had never seen a girl before.” 

Margery whirled the telephone handle 
again. Well, it’s no use,” she sighed, hang- 
ing up the receiver. Is there any one else 
near here who has a telephone? ” 

‘‘ The Durhams — they live about half a 
mile down the road. But I don’t believe 
that they are home. Everybody has gone to 
old Mr. Ashton’s funeral. All our folks have 
gone, too, but I stayed home because I wanted 
to rest up for the sociable to-night. How did 
that upset happen ? ” she added, more awake 
now, and anxious not to miss any excitement. 

Margery explained as briefly as she could, 
and with a flnal word of apology and thanks, 
hurried oflT to the Durhams’. As she scurried 
along beside the road she often turned back to 
see if Harry and Bunni© were coming. I 
hope they didn’t pass — surely they would 
have sense enough to come into the Powells’ 
to see if I were there.” 

As the girl had predicted, the Durhams were 


268 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

away from home, and after she had knocked 
loudly and futilely at the front and back 
doors, Margery retreated to the horse-block in 
front of the gate to sit there and wait for the 
others. They did not appear, and she became 
the victim of nervous fears. It was ages, she 
fretted, since the car had gone into the ditch. 
No doubt it had passed while she was in the 
Powells^ house. It would be just like Harry 
and Bunnie to sail past without giving her a 
single thought. Well, if she ever reached 
home she never would go anywhere with any- 
body — no matter how much she was urged. 
And as for Polly ! — Margery simply could not 
bear to think of Polly^s disappointment and 
displeasure. With all her sweetness and sym- 
pathy Polly was quick-tempered and proud, 
and not one to overlook an apparent slight. 
Margery brushed her eyes with the back of 
her hand and sighed dismally. 

And then the fun she was missing I She 
wanted so much to see the tennis match, for 
the games were certain to be well-played and 
exciting, and she had hoped to see Dick de- 
feat a certain proficient Rob Bailey, whom 
she and Polly considered especially odious. 


TRIES THE TELEPHONE 269 

She thought of herself as she should have 
been at that hour ; dainty in the new batiste 
and the becoming big black hat, happy and 
gay, the center of an admiring group of boys 
and girls ; while across the green courts the 
sun shone on the river, and on the sails of the 
darting small boats, and perhaps on the guns 
of some great man-o’-war passing slowly out 
to sea. In bitterness she contrasted that 
picture with the dreary stretch of road before 
her, and herself, tired and disheveled, with a 
blistered heel and aching head, sitting for- 
lornly on the horse-block, stared at by pass- 
ing motorists and once jeered at by a crowd 
of men on a truck. 

At last, just as she meditated a despairing at- 
tempt to walk to Renwyck’s Town, or at least 
in its direction, Harry’s little car hove in sight. 

“ Did you ’phone ? ” asked Bunnie as Mar- 
gery climbed into the automobile and sank 
down into the limited amount of space allowed 
her. 

“ No,” answered Margery wearily. " They 
were all out and the telephone wouldn’t 
work.” 

“ We were an age getting the car out of the 


2/0 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

ditch,” explained Harry. “ It took two horses 
— and it cost me five dollars. Then Bunnie 
was so tired sitting there on the fence that we 
had to turn round and go back to Monroe to 
get the lady an ice-cream soda.” 

‘‘ And Margery,” interrupted Bunnie gayly, 
“ while we were there we met Mrs. McClellan, 
a friend of Harry’s mother, and she asked us 
in. She had some boys and girls there — and 
we danced. Oh, we had such fun I You 
ought to have been there I ” 

Margery was silent. Bunnie’s serene dis- 
regard of every one but herself shocked her, 
quite impersonally and apart from her own 
feelings. She was bitterly resentful, too, of 
the way Harry had carelessly left her to shift 
for herself, while he danced and enjoyed him- 
self at Monroe. She sat back, staring straight 
ahead of her at the road, not uttering a word, 
and growing more angry with every mile. 

The strain, the disappointment and the 
annoyance made her head ache, and it was a 
very white and tired Margery, who, at thirty- 
five minutes past six, climbed out of the run- 
about and ran up the steps of the White House 
Farm. 


TRIES THE TELEPHONE 271 

“ Margery/' called her grandfather from the 
library, ** come here.” 

Margery hurried across the hall and stood 
in the doorway. “ Yes, Grandpapa,” she said 
breathlessly. 

” You have not been to Polly's party, I be- 
lieve.” 

Margery shook her head. 

Polly telephoned for you several times. 
This is the first day she has been out, I under- 
stand, and as she has not been well, I under- 
stand also that you were to assist her with her 
guests. She seems to have been depending on 
you — but Sarah told her you had gone away 
with Elizabeth Morris and Harry Richards.” 

<< Yes — oh, Grandpapa — I— we — Bunnie and 
Harry and I — we went to Monroe — and the 
car ran into a ditch and had a puncture. 
And Harry had to get his mother's new hat, 
and we had ice-cream and the movies were so 
long and ” 

** You told me at luncheon that you were 
going to Polly's party. But that will do 
now. You may go up-stairs and get yourself 
ready for dinner. It will be ready in a few 
minutes.” With a sigh Mr. Morris turned 


272 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

back to his book, and Margery stumbled up 
the stairs to her room. 

There on the bed lay her pretty blue gown 
all ready to wear, and beside it, Sarah had 
placed her new black hat with the pink roses, 
and her best black silk stockings and patent 
leather pumps. '' Oh, dear,'' sighed Margery. 

Oh, dear." 

Dinner was a somewhat strained meal and 
Margery was glad when it was over and she 
could slip out to the terrace. It was a soft, 
clear spring evening, the leaves of the trees 
were still tenderly green, and down in the 
garden the lilacs were tossing their purple 
plumes. Waldo slipped his muzzle into her 
hand and together they walked up and down. 
Her grandfather came out through the long 
French window and drawing her arm through 
his walked up and down with her. 

For a time he said nothing, beyond an oc- 
casional comment on the beauty of the even- 
ing, and the lights of Renwyck's Town slowly 
appearing one by one. 

Margery," he cleared his throat, Mar- 
gery, I should hate to think that my little 
girl was deceiving me in any way. I want 


TRIES THE TELEPHONE 273 

you to have all the fun that any one possibly 
could. But I don^t like your running over 
the country in this fashion with a young boy 
and another girl, and no older person. In 
fact, I forbid it absolutely. And there must 
be an end to this intimacy with Harry Rich- 
ards. He is a foolish, idle, spendthrift boy, 
acting in anything but a manly way toward 
his widowed mother. Dick and Sam are 
splendid, manly boys that I am glad for you 
to know — but not Harry. Mr. Morris was 
here this afternoon. He was speaking of this 
friendship of yours and Bunnie's with Harry, 
and he gave me to understand that Bunnie 
endures it solely on your account.^^ 

Margery gasped. Why, Grandpapa — I 
stand Harry only for Bunnie’s sake — I detest 
him ! I wish he’d never been born I I’m 

only trying to help Bunnie ” With a 

long wail that made her grandfather smile in 
spite of himself, she ran into the house and 
up to her room. There, tired and over- 
wrought, she threw herself on the window- 
seat and gave way to a most heartfelt and 
satisfying sobbing. 

Sarah came in to arrange the bed for the 


274 MABGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

night and paused astonished. “ Oh, Miss 
Margery — whatever is the matter? Is any- 
thing wrong ? 

Oh, no, Sarah. It^s — it’s just that I’m — 
a mascot.” 

Sarah was puzzled ; a mascot was some- 
thing new to her experience, while Margery’s 
attack of grippe was still fresh in her mind. 
Putting her hand on Margery’s forehead, she 
said soothingly — Sarah believed in being 
soothing to invalids under all provocations — 
Oh, no. Miss Margery, it can’t be as bad as 
that — it’s a little nervous ye are. Come, let 
Sarah help ye to bed, an’ then we’ll be gettin’ 
the doctor to give ye some nice medicine for 
it — an’ maybe we’ll be gettin’ Miss Tucker 
back. Ye haven’t a touch of fever — maybe 
ye’re not a mascot at all ! Stick out yer 
tongue an’ let me see.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


EXPLANATIONS 

Margery’s first thought the next morning 
was to telephone to Polly, and explain as best 
she could the incident of the preceding day. 

Hannah, the maid who answered the 
’phone, told her that Polly was still asleep, 
and to call later. At twelve she called again, 
only to find that Polly had gone with her 
parents to spend the day with some friends 
out in the country. Miss Polly,” Hannah 
stated, “ done survived de pahty so well, aiT 
her cold’s so much bettah, dat dey’s decided 
ter risk an outin’.” 

Disappointed, Margery went back to her 
letters. Her head had ached enough to make 
an excuse for staying home from church, and 
she had spent the morning in the garden by 
the tall lilac bushes writing to her mother 
and her former schoolmates. 

In the afternoon, Harry Richards stopped 
275 


276 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

at the house. He did not come in but left 
instead one of the big boxes of candy that 
had been the tribute to Bunnie exclusively 
hitherto, with a note of apology penciled on 
the top. Margery showed the note and the 
candy to her grandfather. He made no com- 
ment beyond : 

You’re a little young to begin to accept 
candy and flowers and that sort of thing from 
young men. Keep your friendships on the 
simple basis that they are with Dick and 
Sam.” 

The afternoon and evening wore on intol- 
erably. Margery wished that she could go out 
to the Morris farm and have a good long 
comforting talk with Deborah, but she knew 
that involved seeing Bunnie, and Mr. Morris, 
who disconcerted her, and perhaps facing some 
teasing from Dick. She thought of sitting 
down by her grandfather, and confiding in 
him her hopes and schemes of aiding the 
world and the difficulties into which they 
seemed to have brought her. But a childish 
fear of being laughed at, or of having her con- 
fidences made the basis of an improving lec- 
ture, held her back. Instead, she suggested to 


EXPLANATIONS 277 

her grandfather that she read to him, and at 
his pleased assent, plowed heroically through 
‘‘ Synthetic Philosophy ’’ while Mr. Morris 
rested his tired eyes to the point of nodding. 

On Monday morning Margery woke in an 
unusual state of depression and lowly minded- 
ness. The occurrences of Saturday seemed 
blacker than ever, and no repentant sinner 
ever made more humble confession than did 
Margery in the imaginary speeches she re- 
hearsed on the way to school. Polly, she 
pictured as cold and haughty, as she herself 
would very likely have been under the cir- 
cumstances, with a dignity that was positively 
regal. Meekly, she felt that this would be no 
more than she deserved, but her genuine de- 
sire to win Polly’s forgiveness led her to de- 
vise methods of approach which to Margery, 
direct and straightforward as she was, unused 
to the devious ways of diplomacy, seemed 
masterpieces of stratagem. In her mind's eye 
she saw herself chatting with Sally or some 
of the girls in the schoolroom ; Polly would 
enter, say “ Good-morning,’^ with paralyzing 
formality, and Margery would begin, Polly, 
I tried to phonograph you yesterday — I — I — 


278 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

mean telegraph you/^ purposely designed 
slips of the tongue that would send the other 
girls into shrieks of laughter and bring a 
reluctant smile to the corners of Polly's 
mouth. Then, having gained the attention 
of the judge, the criminal would make full 
confession of her weakness in having allowed 
herself to be carried off by Bunnie and Harry, 
her grief and indignation at the delays and, 
finally, should Polly still prove unyielding, a 
moving story of her weary walk in search of 
a telephone, her encounter with the Italian 
woman and the girl at the Powells', and her 
blistered heel. Warm-hearted Polly, she felt, 
would never be able to withstand this final 
tale of misery, and there would be an instant 
reconciliation. As a final seal to the restored 
friendship she would hand Harry's box of 
candy to Polly with the plea that it be passed 
around among the girls, as she never wanted 
to see the stuff again." In the afternoon she 
and Polly would have a long talk in a shady 
corner of the garden, and she would tell the 
whole long pathetic story of her attempts at 
mascoting. She felt the time had come for 
her to be entirely frank. 


EXPLANATIONS 


279 

These plans she alternated with a hope, too 
rosy to be more than a passing dream, that 
Polly would not be offended at all, but alto- 
gether understanding and indulgent. 

“ Well, anyway, she remarked to herself 
with assumed confidence, as she turned into 
the school gate, “Polly is awfully high- 
spirited and sensitive, but she is a dear. And 
if you just treat those quick-tempered, proud 
people with tact, you have no trouble.'^ 

She pushed open the door of the cloak-room 
and entered. “ Hello,'' she said casually to a 
group of girls clustered about the mirror, 
evidently deep in some earnest discussion. 
“ Hello," replied one or two of them rather 
waveringly, their eyes on some one who had 
just entered the room back of her. 

Margery turned and faced Polly ; not Polly 
as she had imagined her, august and digni- 
fied and apparently indifferent, but Polly 
humanly and frankly hurt and indignant. 
“ Well, — Margery Morris," she began, her 
head up like that of a war-horse scenting 
battle, the very scarlet bow on the end of her 
pigtail quivering with resentment, “ I should 
think that you would be ashamed to see me I " 


28 o MARGERT morris, MASCOT 

Margery opened her lips, gasped, and for 
the lack of something to say closed them 
again. Crushed by the sense of her own un- 
worthiness she turned crimson and her head 
drooped. 

Polly sailed on. '' Yes, I should think that 
you would blush I I think that it was too 
mean for anything I After you had promised 
me, and promised me to be there early — you 
knew I^d been ill — for you not only not to 
come early, but never to come at all 

“ I — I — tried to telephone,'’ interrupted 
Margery courageously. I had a blister on 
my heel and " 

‘‘ Hannah told me you tried to telephone 
yesterday, ’’ Polly admitted, somewhat molli- 
fied. Then, seized by the memory of her 
wrongs she rushed on, But telephoning 
didn’t alter the case — you broke your promise 
to be there and help me I And you know 
that you’re always talking about a promise 
being sacred I Of course, I don’t want any- 
body to come to my parties who doesn’t want 
to do it. If you had refused at first I 
shouldn’t have minded at all. It was just 
that you made such a fuss about wanting to 


EXPLANATIONS 


281 


come, and promising to come early and help 
me — and then on top of that you sailed off to 
the moving-pictures and the tea-room, — a 
thing you can do any day. I don’t mind 
telling you that I’m awfully hurt.” 

Really distressed, Margery’s presence of 
mind forsook her. With a glance at the 
other girls plainly listening, she made a fal- 
tering attempt to deliver her prepared speech, 
and began, of course, at the wrong end. 

“ Won’t — won’t you have some of the candy 
Harry sent me? ” she blundered. “ I want to 
get rid of the old stuff.” 

A tactful invitation that added the last fuel 
to the fire of Polly’s wrath. “ And you’re not 
even sorry ! ” she cried. With a snort of in- 
dignation that was close to tears, she left the 
room. 

Feeling as though the roof had crashed 
down on her head, Margery turned to the 
other girls. Plainly, from their expressions, 
popular sympathy was not with her. 

I — I,” she began limply, I didn’t think 
Polly’d take it that way.” 

Pretty, fly-away Sally Watson, perched on 
the radiator, swung her heels and laughed. 


282 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

** Grr,” she shuddered in affected fright, such 
scenes are hard on my nerves. But really, 
Margery, you were a goose not to have come 
to Polly's party. I'm sure you can't have had 
half so good a time in Monroe. I never had 
so much fun in my life I " 

Elinor Joyner added seriously, It was too 
bad of you, Margery. I don’t blame Polly a 
bit. She isn't entirely well yet, either. Even 
if you didn't want to go to her party you could 
have arranged things differently." 

“ But I did want to go ! " cried Margery, 
exasperated. We — we upset in the ditch, 
or else I would have been back in plenty of 
time I I tried to telephone right then and 
there, but the Powells' telephone was out of 
order. I wanted to explain all this to Polly, 
but she wouldn't let me." 

Sally laughed again ; tried to whistle, and 
could not because she laughed so much. 
" Now, Margery," she remonstrated, " don't 
try any tales about ditches, when Harry and 
Bunnie were telling it round that very even- 
ing what lots of fun you had in Monroe, and 
all about dancing at Mrs. Thing-um-a-bob's, 
and everything.” Sally paused for a half- 


EXPLANATIONS 283 

second, then went on with unaccustomed 
seriousness, ** Really, Margery, Polly^s a per- 
fect dear — but you do have to be careful about 
not hurting her feelings. Bother I There's 
the bell I " 

As they flocked into the assembly room for 
morning prayers, Margery made another at- 
tempt to clear herself. Sally, at least, should 
know that while Harry and Bunnie were 
dancing in Monroe, she herself was sitting 
forlornly on a horse-block, miles from any- 
where, with a blistered heel and an aching 
head and heart, stared at and jeered at by 
passing motorists, waiting for the irresponsible^ 
dancers to come along and pick her up. But 
Teacher Rachel promptly tapped her on the 
arm and told her that she would have to stay 
in during recess for speaking after the bell 
had rung. 

Margery's mind was plainly not on her 
lessons that morning, and she announced 
dreamily that the Ode to an Idiot Boy had 
been written by Cicero, and that Marie An- 
toinette had been beheaded by Henry the 
Eighth ; a species of absent-mindedness that 
convulsed her classmates, annoyed Teacher 


284 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

Rachel, and finally led to her being kept in 
for fifteen minutes after school. 

Recess period she spent in solitary grandeur 
in the principal’s office, where she composed 
further speeches to Polly, and one to Bunnie 
in which she humbled her pride and asked 
her to explain to Polly the true state of affairs. 
A moment alone on the stairs with Bunnie, 
between classes, enabled her to make her plea. 

Bunnie was polite but indifferent. Oh,” 
she said easily, you didn’t manage Polly 
well ! She was all right with me. But of 
course, I’m the kind of a person that believes 
in using tact, and I jollied her along. Even 
if she does flare up a little, you ought not to 
get excited about that. You’re too touchy. 
It’s funny about me — I guess I must be dif- 
ferent from other people — but I’m always able 
to take things as they come.” 

Margery was silent. There really seemed 
nothing to say. Repeating to herself the 
proverb that we can be brave over the tooth- 
aches of the whole world, unless our own 
teeth happen to ache, she drifted down the 
stairs. 

During study period she recklessly tried to 


EXPLANATIONS 28 5 

pass a note to Polly which Teacher Rachel 
spied and ordered her to put into the scrap- 
basket, while fifteen minutes were added to 
the time Margery was to be kept in after 
school. This final calamity turned the scale ; 
from feeling herself to be a criminal, Margery 
changed to considering herself a martyr. 
Here she was, she argued, just because of 
Polly^s hot temper and unreasonableness, 
forced to spend her whole recess in the office, 
and to stay in half an hour after school. It 
was very unjust, and she was being badly 
treated. Harry and Bunnie had been careless 
and selfish, but after all she thought that they 
were not a bit worse than Polly. 

“ At least, they were not so horrid and 
rude,^^ she declared wrathfully. Polly^s in- 
dignant speech of the morning, which she had 
taken at the time in a spirit of submission, 
began to rankle, and she composed a number 
of biting and brilliant speeches to take the 
place of those she had rehearsed earlier in the 
day. 

The final bell rang for the dismissal of 
school, and the boys and girls filed out into 
the hall. Polly, in hopes that Margery would 


286 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

make a move toward a reconciliation, lingered 
near the door. She already regretted her out- 
burst of the morning, and had Margery at- 
tempted an apology then she would have met 
her half-way. But she felt it due to her 
dignity not to make the first advance. It is 
a lamentable fact that most people would 
rather be dignified than happy. And so she 
hung back, waiting, while Margery, never 
dreaming that a word of hers would be lis- 
tened to, gathered her books together in 
preparation for another session in the office. 
When she emerged Polly had gone home to 
luncheon. 


CHAPTER XIX 


TRIALS 

School-days, we are told, are the happiest 
and the most care-free in life. They are a 
favorite theme with the writers of popular 
songs, and rare indeed is the public speaker 
who cannot wax sentimental over the halcyon 
days when he was a lad at school. Yet 
school-days are as full of perplexities, heart- 
aches, and injustices as any other state of ex- 
istence, and these must be met, not by the 
experienced, backed up by a lifetime of 
knowledge and training, but by the novice in 
the art of living. Nor can these trials be dis- 
missed with the thought that they are only 
trifles and that the sufferers are only children ; 
for little things often affect our whole lives, 
and as a teacup can be as full as a bucket, so 
can youth suffer as keenly as age. 

If, at the end of the week following Polly^s 
party, Margery had been asked her opinion 
287 


288 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

of school-days she would have declared them 
to be the most miserable time imaginable, and 
herself the most unhappy schoolgirl alive. 
The misunderstanding with Polly had de- 
veloped over night into an open quarrel, and 
the two girls passed each other without speak- 
ing and with cold and averted looks. The 
fact that they were really fond of each other 
made them more bitter and more haughty. 

The estrangement might have passed over 
after a day or two, had not the other girls in 
the class taken an interest in it, carried opin- 
ions backwards and forwards between the two 
principals and repeated remarks that, often 
harmless enough in themselves, sounded quite 
different when said with another emphasis 
and without their context. 

Polly was very popular, and she had been 
an acknowledged leader since her kinder- 
garten days, while Margery was a comparative 
stranger to them, and on their first acquaint- 
ance with her she had been suspected of being 
affected and stuck up.^^ Moreover, poor 
Margery had been put in a position where she 
seemed to be wholly in the wrong, selfish and 
indifferent to her promise to Polly, and their 


TRIALS 


289 

generous young sympathies rushed to the side 
of the girl whom they considered the injured 
one. Accordingly, Margery found herself 
ostracized. 

‘‘ Thank goodness,^* she sighed, as she 
stopped at Miss Patty’s on Saturday morning 
for her music lesson, ** that there’s no school 
to-day, and I won’t have to face those horrid, 
horrid girls,” and she gave the bell a vindictive 
pull. 

Miss Patty’s big brawny Irish maid, who 
seemed too large for the quaint little house, 
opened the door. “ Miss Patty is nervous and 
upset,” she announced. She won’t be able 
to give yer any lesson this mornin’. I was 
ter go out an’ telephone yer, but the milkman 
came for his money and I didn’t get it done.” 

wonder,” thought Margery, as she turned 
away, “ what can be the matter with Miss 
Patty ? ” 

She was not long in finding out. After 
church the next morning, Mrs. Jameson 
stopped her as she was passing out of the door 
with the rest of the congregation. “ Are you 
in a hurry, Margery?” she asked. I see 
your grandfather has gone into the vestry to 


290 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT^^ 

speak to the rector, so perhaps you can spare 
me a few minutes/^ 

Wondering, Margery allowed herself to be 
led down the path to the quaint old grave- 
yard. She had noted that Polly was not at 
church that morning, and with a sudden up- 
surging of hope she guessed that Mrs. Jame- 
son was going to try to bring about a recon- 
ciliation. Her first impulse was of pleasure 
and relief, her second to hold back, for she 
told herself that Polly had been unjust and 
harsh and that it would be a long time before 
she would forgive her. 

She was not prepared for what Mrs. Jameson 
did have to say. “ Margery,’^ Mrs. Jameson 
began, ** what is all this about Miss Patty ? 

'' Why — why — I don’t know. How do 
you mean?” 

“ I mean about Miss Patty and Dr. Huston. 
Yesterday afternoon, Miss Patty came to see 
me very unhappy and upset. She is engaged 
— has been engaged for a long time — to a dis- 
tant cousin of mine, Duncan Patterson, who 
lives in Boston now, although he comes from 
here. Because Miss Patty feels that she can- 
not leave her bedridden grandmother, the 


TRIALS 


291 

wedding has been postponed — too often, I 
think. At times, I fancy, Duncan has grown 
rather impatient. Then, somehow, from some 
one here, he heard that Miss Patty was en- 
gaged to Dr. Huston. Evidently there has 
been a good deal of unhappiness over it, and 
Miss Patty has been very much upset. Poor 
soul, she has been on a long nervous strain, 
and it can’t be wondered at. But where I feel 
especially bad is that she said the gossip had 
started at Polly’s party. Somebody there had 
said that Mrs. Stenton had said that you had 
said that Miss Patty had told you that she was 
engaged to Dr. Huston.” 

Why — I never said that, Mrs. Jameson I 
Truly I didn’t.” 

As rapidly as she could Margery sketched 
the meeting with Mrs. Stenton, and her own 
share in the conversation. I didn’t say 
those things, Mrs. Jameson — Mrs. Stenton just 
seemed to say them for me.” 

Mrs. Jameson laughed in spite of herself at 
Margery’s woebegone face. Mrs. Stenton has 
a little way of saying things for people,” she 
observed. “ But it shows how careful we 
ought to be ; remember the old verse : 


292 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

“ ‘ If wisdom’s ways you wisely seek, 

Five things observe with care. 

Of whom you speak, to whom you speak. 
And how, and when, and where.’ ” 

^*Yes,” sighed Margery dolefully, “I think 
it would be better if I never spoke at all.^^ 
There’s a little story I often tell Polly,” 
Mrs. Jameson continued, bent on improving 
the occasion. “ There was once a woman who 
went to the Catholic priest to confess having 
repeated a piece of gossip about a neighbor. 
The priest told her to go and gather a lot of 
thistle blooms and scatter them to the four 
winds, and then to return to him. When she 
had done this the priest told her to go and 
gather up all the thistle-down she had scat- 
tered. ‘ But I can’t do that,’ the woman said ; 
‘ some of it has blown so far that I never 
could get it.’ ‘ The gossip you have scattered 
is like the thistle-down,’ answered the priest. 
‘ Until you can gather up every unkind word 
you have spread you cannot undo the harm 
you have done.’ You see, dear, how care- 
ful we all have to be. But it may come 
out all right about Miss Patty, so don’t 
worry.” 


TRIALS 


293 

Margery sighed ; it was so hard, she thought, 
trying to make Mrs. Jameson understand. 

She was genuinely distressed that she should 
have been in any way responsible for bring- 
ing the tears to Miss Patty^s dear patient eyes, 
and all during the ride home and at dinner 
she concocted innumerable plans for straight- 
ening things out. She even sat down at her 
desk and pulling out a sheet of her best paper 

began, My dear Mr. A heavy blot of 

ink fell where the name Patterson should 
have been. With an involuntary smile Mar- 
gery read out the inscription as it stood : 
‘‘ ‘ My dear Mr. — Blot.* That*s what you are ; 
an old Mr. Blot. A blot on the landscape to 
go and get so jealous and horrid, and make 
everybody unhappy.** 

She added feet, arms and head to the inky 
spot, and labeled it Mr. Duncan Patter- 
son.** Then, her feelings relieved, she would 
not write to him to-day, after all. Perhaps 
if she did she ' would only make matters 
worse. Putting aside her pen, she went 
down-stairs. 

Waldo was asleep in the hall. In her de- 
pressed state of mind Margery found the so- 


294 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

ciety of the dog very comforting. You dear 
old thing/^ she said as she bent to pat his 
head. “ You don^t scold me, or laugh at me, or 
get mad at me, or do anything but just love 
me.^^ Waking, Waldo thumped his tail 
against the floor, and put a heavy paw play- 
fully on her arm. Yes, youVe a perfect 
dear I You shall have some sugar for being 
so nice.*’ There was lump sugar in the din- 
ing-room on the sideboard, and she took a 
handful. Now beg.” 

She was balancing a lump on Waldo’s nose 
when she heard the sound of wheels and 
glancing through the open door, saw Harry 
coming up the driveway in his car. 

‘‘ Oh, dear I ” she exclaimed. What shall 
I do?” Abandoning the sugar and Waldo 
she ran to the coat cupboard under the stairs 
and pulled the door to after her. 

This time Harry did not merely leave some 
trifle, but he demanded to see her, and she 
nearly suffocated in her close little den while 
Katie searched the house for her. At length 
she heard Harry’s noisy little runabout de- 
part, and she emerged from her lair, feeling 
very undignified and disheveled. 


TRIALS 


295 

Was that Harry ? ** her grandfather called 
from the library. 

Margery nodded, and tucked back a lock 
that had caught on one of the cupboard 
hooks. “ Yes, it was Harry, she answered. 

You must not allow him to call here, dear.'' 

Margery tried to explain. ‘‘ But I don't 
want " 

That will do, Margery. I have told you 
before that I don't approve of that young 
man. There's the telephone — run and answer 
it, dear." 

But escaping Harry was not always so easy. 
Through the coolness with the other girls at 
school, Margery was forced even more into 
Bunnie's society than she had been before. 
And wherever Bunnie was, there of course 
Harry was also, although of late he had talked 
more to Margery than either she or Bunnie 
found agreeable. Bunnie indeed had become 
very cool in her manner and more than once 
made cutting speeches that Margery felt to be 
the final injustice of all. 

As a result Margery stayed more at home, 
digging in the garden or taking long rides 
with her grandfather through the pleasant 


296 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

countryside, lovely now with its flowering 
horse-chestnuts, and daisy-filled fields. 

She still felt bitterly disappointed over the 
delay in her parents' home-coming, and there 
were times when the strain at school wore on 
her particularly and she longed to sob out on 
her mother's shoulder the whole history of 
her many trials and difficulties. Dick had 
taken his examinations for the prize, so he 
came less often to the house, and Margery 
missed his cheering presence which had come 
to be the only bright spot in her intercourse 
with the boys and girls of Renwyck's Town. 
She grew paler and thinner, and even choco- 
late cake failed so completely to interest her 
that Sarah held several anxious consultations 
with Mr. Morris. 

Harry took to calling almost every after- 
noon, but Margery usually happened to be 
out, and once or twice she saw him coming 
and managed to make her escape. 

“ I wish that Harry were as persistent in 
the big worth-while things," she sighed one 
afternoon as she came back from a long ride, 
as he is in pestering me." 

When she came out of school the next day. 


TRIALS 


297 

hurrying through the gate in order to avoid 
the other girls, Harry stopped her. 

‘‘What’s the matter, Margery?” he asked. 
“ Aren’t you home any more? ” 

Margery blushed and felt very uncomfort- 
able. “ I’m — oh. I’m — very busy, now.” 

“ Oh I ” said Harry. 

But Margery had too direct and honest a 
nature to go on offering evasions. Her face 
on fire, she bravely met the situation. “ I’m 
— I’m sorry, Harry,” she said simply, “but 
Grandpapa doesn’t like me to have you at the 
house, until — well, until you turn over a new 
leaf. You see,” she went on courageously, 
“ you are idle and rather extravagant. And 
really, Harry,” she added with the little 
womanly air that had come to her of late, 
“ it scarcely is acting properly to your mother. 
You know the reason she isn’t well is because 
she is worried. You could be fine — if you 
wanted to be.” 

Harry fiushed and ran his finger thought- 
fully around the steering wheel. “ When a 
fellow gets kicked out of school,” he mut- 
tered, “ he doesn’t feel so much like trying.” 

“ But you could try, Harry.” 


298 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

« Yes — and fail.’' 

Failure was a poor argument with which to 
convince Margery. ‘‘ You don’t have to fail, 
unless you want to,” she said stoutly. “ I — 
you ” — she sought for the right thing to say — 
I’d fight until I couldn’t stand up, rather 
than fail,” she went on. 

Harry looked at her thoughtfully, ‘‘ I be- 
lieve you would.” 

“ And then, Harry,” she cried, warming up 
to her subject, ‘‘ don’t you remember John 
Paul Jones, when he was almost defeated, and 
how he said ‘ I haven't begun to fight ’ ? ” 

“ That’s so,” said Harry. 

Margery glanced at the town clock. I’ll 
have to run now,” she said, or I’ll be late to 
luncheon. Good-bye.” 

Out on the country road, Margery took off 
her hat and fanned her cheeks. 

Life’s a very complicated thing,” she re- 
marked to an old sheep looking at her through 
the bars of the fence. I wish that there 
were rules you could learn by heart — like the 
rules in mathematics — that would always tell 
you exactly what to do.” 

” Baaa,” said the sheep. 


CHAPTER XX 


‘‘the harm you have done^' 

“Can’t you come out this afternoon, Bun- 
nie ? ” Margery asked one rainy day at the end 
of school. 

“I have an engagement,” Bunnie answered 
briefly. 

“ Oh, can’t you break it ? ” Margery urged. 
She was feeling depressed and dreaded a long 
rainy afternoon by herself. 

“ I’m the kind of person that doesn’t break 
engagements,” Bunnie answered loftily. “ I 
don’t go to Monroe when my friends are giving 
parties.” 

Margery turned, her spirit roused. “ Why, 
Bunnie I You of all people to say that to 

me ” she began hotly, when her eye fell 

on a paper lying by a pile of chairs in a corner 
of the cloak room. 

It was in Polly’s writing and with a start 
299 


300 MARGERr MORRIS, MASCOT 

Margery wondered if it could possibly be the 
carefully prepared term essay, the loss of 
which she had heard Polly bewailing. Polly 
had torn up her rough draft and the losing of 
the perfected copy meant that a whole 
month^s work would have to be done over. 

Margery stooped and picked up the paper. 
It was Polly's essay ; dirty and mussed, but 
still complete. For a moment temptation 
assailed her. If she threw the paper back 
where she found it, Polly would probably 
have all her work to do over again ; and it 
would serve her right. Then her own honor- 
able nature asserted itself, and without stop- 
ping to finish her conversation with Bunnie, 
she ran swiftly out of the room up the stairs 
to Polly's desk. 

As she raised the desk-lid to put in the 
paper, Polly appeared at the doorway, amaze- 
ment written on her face. 

Margery fiushed. “ I — I " she stam- 

mered. 

Polly raised her eyebrows. 

Margery's lips quivered. I found your 
essay," she said as soon as she could speak, 
** under the pile of chairs in the cloak room. 


^^HARM rOU HAVE DONE^^ 301 

I thought you might want it/’ Putting down 
the desk-lid she walked quietly out of the 
room. 

Polly said nothing to her the next morning 
nor made any sign of recognition, but as she 
opened her desk, Margery discovered that 
some one had sharpened her pencils for her, 
long, beautiful points that she never could 
have achieved for herself. Margery always 
sharpened and sharpened until she had noth- 
ing but a pathetic stub of pencil left, with a 
blunt point after all. Her attempts at pencil 
sharpening were a favorite joke among the 
other girls. The next day the pencils had 
been sharpened again and the next, although 
not until long afterward did she find out who 
had done them. 

Margery was too absorbed in her own af- 
fairs to think much about Dick’s success with 
the examination, but Mr. Morris was eager to 
know how his favorite had fared. He asked 
Margery so many times if she had heard the 
results of the competition, that it was scarcely 
a coincidence that he happened to be speak- 
ing of it one afternoon just as Margery spied 
Dick and Sam turning in at the gate. 


302 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

She ran to the front door and stood waiting 
as the two boys come up the driveway, Sam 
rolling along in the absurd imitation of a 
sailor’s gait that he adopted of late in antici- 
pation of going to Annapolis. Dick waved a 
newspaper over his head, and hurried across 
the grass, while Sam remained in the drive- 
way to dance what he fondly imagined was a 
sailors’ hornpipe, but which was really a com- 
bination of Highland fling and the aesthetic 
posturing taught at young ladies’ boarding- 
schools. 

I’ve got it I ” Dick shouted. “ It’s an- 
nounced in the Star-beamy too. See, here it 
is I I’ve won it, and it’s all due to you, Mr. 
Morris. And you’ve been a brick, Margery.” 

Margery seized him by both hands and in 
the fulness of her joy capered around him, 
‘‘ like an excited puppy,” her grandfather im- 
formed her. 

That’s flne, my boy.” Mr. Morris 
beamed. I can’t tell you how glad I am. I 
shall have to call on your grandfather to- 
morrow and congratulate him.” 

The next afternoon when her grandfather 
went over to the Morris farm, Margery went 


^^HARM rOU HAVE DONE** 303 

with him to have a little chat with Deborah 
and Bunnie. 

‘‘ Well, dear,'* Deborah smiled at her, 

isn't the news fine ? Fm so glad for Dick's 
sake. And his grandfather is so proud of 
him,— it's really comical to see it! And 
Dick says you and your grandfather helped 

him. That's Yes, Thomas, what is it? 

Oh, dear, the butcher. Well, Margery, I’ll 
have to go out and talk to him about last 
Sunday's roast. It was as tough as tough, 
and I was so disgusted. Bunnie is up-stairs." 

Margery found Bunnie in her room, busily 
cutting out a shirt-waist. Bunnie sewed 
rather well, ^with that capability which did 
something to redeem other qualities that were 
not so pleasing. 

She did not seem particularly pleased to 
see Margery and went on with her sewing, 
her head bent low and her eyes obstinately 
fixed on her needle. 

What's that you're making? " asked Mar- 
gery in an effort to clear away a somewhat 
awkward silence. 

Blouse." 

‘‘ I wish I could sew like that." 


304 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

“ Do you? 

'' I can darn and mend very well, but I^m 
not much good at cutting out/^ 

“ Aren't you? ” 

“ Isn't it fine about Dick ? " 

Yes." 

There was a long pause. Bunnie sat bent 
over her sewing while Margery leaned against 
the window, watching an excitable hen lead- 
ing her brood across the grass, and wondering 
what was the matter with Bunnie. This new 
silence puzzled her. 

With a sudden decision she turned away 
from the window. “ Bunnie," she asked, 

what is the matter with you?" 

“ How? " asked Bunnie, without looking up. 
You scarcely speak to me — and you’ve 
been acting queerly to me lately, you know 
you have." 

Bunnie, cornered, raised her eyes. ** If 
you’re too good for my friends, you’re too 
good for me. I'm the kind of a person that’s 
loyal to my friends. You won’t let Harry 
even be seen with you." 

Margery turned again to the window, her 
cheeks scarlet. She felt indignant and im 


^^HARM rOU HAVE DONE'* 305 

suited. In spite of her little air of elegance, 
and her self-possessed manner, she really was 
very unsuspicious and simple-minded. To- 
day for the first time she realized that Bunnie 
had tolerated her because she found her use- 
ful, and that with an egoist like Bunnie, what 
is no longer useful is no longer interesting. 

** Bunnie, she said, crossing the room, and 
standing beside the other girl, ** I see it all. 
You didn't care a bit about my friendship. 
You just wanted an excuse for meeting Harry. 
And now that I can't see Harry, I'm not use- 
ful to you any more. You've done nothing 
but make unhappiness in my life. I tried to 
help you because I thought you wanted a 
friend. But you've made trouble between 
me and Polly, and you've brought me lots of 
scoldings and misunderstandings. If you 
were a nice girl you'd have explained to 
Polly how it was that I went to Monroe that 
day, and you'd have tried to make things 
straight. And, too, you'd have used your in- 
fluence with Harry for the good, instead of 
leading him on to be more trifling than ever. 
I hope that some day you may see a light, 
and try to undo the harm you've done." 


3o6 MARGERT morris, MASCOT 

Her long speech finished she picked up her 
sweater and ran from the room. 

Mr. Morris had evidently enjoyed his call 
on Dick^s grandfather. 

Henry Morris is a very interesting talker/’ 
he told Margery on the way home. He’s a 
queer, cantankerous fellow, is Henry, but he 
is a well-informed one.” 

** How does Mr. Morris feel about Dick ? ” 

** Oh, delighted, delighted. He’s the proud- 
est man I ever saw. Willing to give the boy 
anything he wants now, nothing too good for 
him. In his eyes it’s the most wonderful 
prize that ever was won. It’s amusing, and 
yet it’s touching too. 

** It just shows, Margery,” he added, what 
a girl can do to help this old world along.” 

** Oh I ” groaned Margery, her mind still on 
Bunnie. 

That night, long after the others of the 
household were asleep, Margery suddenly sat 
up in bed and switching on the light, began a 
note to Mrs. Endicott, imploring her to take 
her away. She was miserable and unhappy 
in Renwyck’s Town, she declared ; the boys 
and girls, especially the girls, were horrid, 


^HARM rOU HAVE DONE^' 307 

and the only thing that could make life 
tolerable to her was to go away at once. She 
would die or go mad, she knew she would, if 
she were left any longer in a town so dread- 
ful ; and Aunt Kate, she hoped, would not 
want to be responsible for anything as tragic 
as Margery^s death in the flower of her youth. 

“ There,’^ she said, as she ripped the sheet 
of paper from the pad and getting up tucked 
it away in her desk, it^s no use mailing this 
until Aunt Kate gets back to Philadelphia. 
I don't know exactly where she is just now. 

I wonder," she paused with her hand on 
the light, if it does seem like running away 
— not very John Paul Jones-y. But, oh, dear, 
I can't help it — I'm so tired and sick of every- 
thing." She skipped back into bed and 
cuddled down under the covers. “ It is run- 
ning away, I'm afraid— being beaten. I won- 
der," she thought, as she drifted off* to sleep, 
if anything will happen to make me change 
my mind." 


CHAPTER XXI 


SAM TAKES A HAND 

Margery, waiting at the druggist's for a 
prescription to be filled, whirled around im- 
patiently on the high revolving stool as 
though to escape from her own harassing 
thoughts. 

It's all a horrid mix-up and mess I I 
never, never shall try to do anything for any 
one again I " she declared to herself, scowling 
at the tips of her tan oxfords. ‘‘ It simply 
doesn't work. Hereafter I shall live for my- 
self alone." Her lips trembled a little ; liv- 
ing for myself alone " sounded rather dreary. 
“ I shall be a pig," with a vindictive whirl of 
the stool, ** an absolute pig I And," remember- 
ing a phrase she had heard applied to an 
acquaintance of her mother's, a cold, hard, 
disappointed woman of the world." 

She whirled around on the stool again and 
308 


SAM TAKES A HAND 309 

stared at her reflection in the long glass over 
the soda-water fountain, striving to assume 
the expression proper to one who was at the 
some time both an absolute pig and a cold, 
proud woman of the world. It was not a suc- 
cess, and in spite of herself, she smiled. 

Hello, Margery — what are you looking so 
cheerful over ? ” demanded a voice at her 
elbow. 

Margery turned. “Oh, hello, Sam,’' she 
said. 

Sam regarded her with as much sternness 
as his cherubic countenance could assume. 
Margery, he felt, had no right to look so 
debonair. He had just been talking to Polly 
over the garden fence, and she had seemed 
strangely upset and unlike herself at a casual 
mention of Margery’s name. Ever since he 
was four and had asked Santa Claus for a gun 
in order to shoot all the bears in the world, 
lest Polly, aged three, be made uneasy by their 
existence, Sam had been gallantly trying to 
take care of Polly, as much as that independent 
young person would allow herself to be taken 
care of. Aware that something was wrong 
between the two girls and having heard school 


310 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT^ 

gossip which put the blame squarely ou Mar- 
gery, Sam, who seldom looked before he 
leaped, but leaped first with remarkable 
agility and energy and looked afterward with 
horror and amazement, decided to interfere 
and set things straight. 

His meeting with Margery had occurred be- 
fore he had had time to think over his resolu- 
tion, and spurred on by what he considered 
her misplaced cheerfulness, he rushed in. 

See here, Margery,” he began, ** what are 
you getting Polly all upset for? I think that 
it’s a shame the way you’ve thrown her over 
for Bunnie and Harry Richards — what you 
can see in that nut Harry puzzles me I Why 
don’t you cut it all out? ” 

Margery stared at him in astonishment and 
anger. S-Sam Bennet,” she stammered, 

I — I think you’re the rudest boy I I ” 

she stopped and spinning round on the stool, 
put her elbows on the counter and buried her 
face in her hands. 

Sam stood silent ; perplexed. What had 
made Margery turn her back on him like 
that? Suddenly comprehension smote him, 
and his knees trembled and his breath grew 


SAM TAKES A HAND 31 1 

short. He had the true masculine horror of 
tears and far rather would he, at that mo- 
ment, have faced all the bears of his original 
offer to Polly than one curly-headed slip of a 
girl. The screen door banged and Sam looked 
anxiously over his shoulder ; some one might 
come in and see that he had made Margery 
cry. It proved to be only a barefoot urchin 
who put a penny in the chewing-gum machine 
and went out, his jaws working violently. 
Sam gave a sigh of relief and cleared his 
throat. 

“ Have a soda. Marge ? ” he asked, trying to 
speak casually. 

There was a pause. “ No thank you,” said 
Margery finally in a tense, small voice. 

“ It s a pretty day,” ventured Sam, huskily. 

Margery apparently felt no interest in the 
weather. 

Sam cleared his throat again. “ Great 
Scott, Marge,” he exploded, “ I’m mighty 
sorry. I didn’t think you’d take it like this. 
I ” 

The druggist appeared with the prescription 
neatly wrapped. Margery took it, paid for it, 
and with a nod and pleasant reply to the 

V 


312 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

man’s comment on the weather, moved toward 
the door. Sam followed her. 

“ See here, Margery,” he essayed again. 

Margery turned and faced him ; she had not 
been weeping as he had thought, but her eyes 
were dark with anger and her face was very 
white. 

I am hoping to go away, Sam,” she said 
quietly and coldly, “ with a friend of my 
mother’s. I shall be most glad to go. You’ve 
all of you been hateful to me here in Ren- 
wyck’s Town. I've tried to be nice to you, — 
and — and — to help you. I’ve tried to help 
Bunnie because she had no other friends — 
and Polly, who was my friend, turns against 
me ! You’ve all turned against me. I hope 
I never have to see any of you again.” 

She stopped abruptly and went out, leaving 
Sam tongue-tied, planted on the other side of 
the screen door. 

On the step Margery paused for an instant ; 
long enough to hear the druggist say with 
amusement, You got it that time, didn’t 
you, Sam ? ” 

‘‘ Oh, how horrid I ” exclaimed Margery, 
turning on her heel. 


SAM TAKES A HAND 313 

‘‘ What say ? asked a tall, lanky country- 
man who had stopped to light his pipe ; was 
you speakin^ to me ? 

Oh, no, not at all,*^ answered Margery, and 
hurried down the street neither knowing nor 
caring where she was going. If she had been 
feeling hurt and disappointed before she en- 
countered Sam, she was bitterly angry now. 

Margery, called Deborah^s voice. 

Margery started and looked about her 
vaguely. 

“ Here, dear, here,^' laughed Deborah, lean- 
ing out of the back seat of the old cut-under 
from the farm, which was drawn up close to 
the curb while Thomas made some purchases 
at the hay and feed store. IVe heard of 
people who couldn’t see for looking I ” 

Oh,” cried Margery, crossing the pave- 
ment, ** I didn’t see you.” 

Deborah looked at her searchingly. ‘‘ How 
are you, dear ? ” she asked anxiously. 

“ Oh, all right.” 

Deborah leaned forward and thoughtfully 
picked off a loose thread from Margery’s coat. 
Margery’s whole air, her indifferent, unre- 
sponsive manner, the haughty droop to the 


314 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

corners of her mouth recalled the girl she had 
first known. What had gone wrong ? 

But you aren’t all right, dear — I can tell 
that by looking at you.” 

Margery fiushed and the tears came to her 
eyes. Oh, everything is horrid — and I’m 
so discouraged.” 

“ Yes ? ” said Deborah softly. 

But Margery evidently was not in a mood 
to be confidential. With her lips pressed tight 
together, she stood staring at the back of Will- 
iam Rufus. 

Too wise to force confidences, Deborah 
smiled, and then sighed again. Although 
Dick was uncompromisingly loyal to Mar- 
gery, and Bunnie seldom discussed her, Deb- 
orah had gleaned that all was not going well 
with her favorite. She thoroughly understood 
Margery ; loved the frank, truthful nature, 
and pitied the pride and petulance that laid 
so many snares for the unwary feet. She 
had watched with loving interest her develop- 
ment this winter, her new patiepce and 
thought for others, and hoped that nothing 
would occur to mar her growth. 

Don’t be discouraged, dear,” she said. 



“but you aren’t all right, dear. 





SAM TAKES A HAND 315 

cheerfully, adding with a laugh, You're a 
pretty good skater, aren't you ? " 

Margery opened her eyes. “ Why— why?" 
she stammered, wondering if Deborah was go- 
ing to ask her to go skating. It had been an 
unusually cold and rainy June, but still it 
was scarcely skating weather. 

** Do you remember how you learned to 
skate — how you told Miss Tucker you were 
going to learn ? " 

Margery thought. ‘‘ I don't see " she 

began. ‘‘Oh," she added with a sudden smile, 
" you mean by getting up every time that I 
fell down ? " 

" Yes," Deborah nodded, “ that's it exactly. 
You learned to skate by getting up every time 
that you fell down. That's a pretty good way 
to take most things in life— just get up every 
time you fall down. Suppose you had gotten 
discouraged the first time you went down, and 
had just lain there until somebody came along 
and picked you up I A lot you would have 
learned about skating I The other day when 
I was dusting Mr. Morris's books I came across 
a verse. Wait a minute — I think I have it in 
my portmonnaie." Deborah drew out a little 


3i6 MARGERT morris, MASCOT 

black purse and opening it unfolded a little 
piece of paper. Read it/^ she said, handing 
the paper to Margery. 

Margery took it and read aloud • 

u < a Fight ou, my men,” Sir Andrew said, 

“ A little I^m hurt, but not yet dead. 

I’ll just lie down and bleed a while. 

And then I’ll rise and fight again.” ’ ” 

She handed the slip of paper back to Deb- 
orah. Yes,^^ she said listlessly, feeling that 
she and Sir Andrew had very little in common ; 
if he rose and fought again, she, for one, 
thought he was a big goose, and she herself 
was tired of fighting and struggling. Yes,'' 
she repeated tunelessly. 

** And now," said Deborah with a sudden 
change of manner, an anxious little frown 
appearing between her eyes, “are j^ou going 
out to see Bunnie to-day ? " 

Margery's cheeks flushed. “ No," she said 
decidedly. “ I am not." 

Deborah's frown deepened. “Oh," she said 
miserably, “ I was in hopes that you were." 

“ Why ? " asked Margery, surprised. 

“ Oh, I have to be away all to-day — I 


SAM TAKES A HAND 317 

promised Mrs. Holder to spend the day with 
her and help her get ready for her daughter's 
wedding to-morrow. They're counting on 
my being there — I'm to ice the cake and 
mix the chicken salad — but I don't feel a 
mite easy in my mind about leaving home. 
Benjie's got a wretched cold — this damp, cold 
weather's made it worse, and I always say 
there isn't anything harder to throw ofip than 
a summer cold — and then there's never know- 
ing what crazy thing he will do next to get 
more chill. Mr. Morris and Dick are going 
to be away, too, and that leaves only Bunnie 
to look after him — and Bunnie's a poor per- 
son to count on. She can do fine at times — 
she's got the making of a real worth-while 
woman — but her mind is more on the boys 
just now — or rather, on Harry. I was just 
in hopes that you were going to be out there 
— I feel that you aren't such a fiy-up-the- 
creek, and you're more to be depended on." 

Margery transferred her gaze from William 
Rufus to Deborah's anxious face, and back to 
William Rufus again. 

Here was some one asking for her help. 
But she knew what would happen if she gave 


3i8 MARGERT morris, MASCOT 

it ; things would be certain to go wrong, and 
then she would have some more people to 
scold her and make her unhappy. It was all 
very well for Deborah to talk about getting 
up every time you fall down, but she knew 
better. 

The town clock struck ten, slowly and 
languidly, as though it were bored by the 
necessity of having to strike at all. 

“ Oh, dear ! ” Margery exclaimed, rousing 
herself. There's ten o'clock I And I was 
to go to Quaker meeting with Grandpapa at 
ten. I had to stop at the drug-store and get 
his medicine refilled and then I was to join 
him at the meeting-house. I forgot absolutely 
all about it I " 

<< Why I — does your grandfather go to meet- 
ing ? " asked Deborah. I thought that he 
went to St. Peter's." 

'^He does. But sometimes he likes to go 
to meeting. He used to go with his grand- 
mother when he was a little boy. I'll have 
to run, now — good-bye I " 

With a nod to Deborah still anxiously 
thinking of Benjamin and home cares, Mar- 
-gery cut diagonally across the wide shady 


SAM TAKES A HAND 319 

street, and turned into the still wider and 
shadier one on which stood the old, red-brick 
meeting-house where generations of the mem- 
bers of the Society of Friends, founders of the 
town, had worshipped. 

“ Grandpapa will have a fit if Fm late,"' she 
thought as she hurried breathlessly along, her 
griefs and worries forgotten for the moment. 
A quaint little figure ahead of her, attired in 
wide rustling drab silk skirts, drab shawl and 
poke bonnet, caught her eye. ** Thank good- 
ness,^^ she panted, I wonT be the last one.^^ 

Breaking into a run, she caught up with 
the little Quakeress at the meeting-house 
gate, and falling into line back of her walked 
demurely into the building and slipped into 
the back seat on the women's side of the 
house. 

The kindly, middle-aged Quakeress, beside 
whom Margery had taken her seat, glanced 
at her out of the corner of her eyes and smiled 
slightly. Margery's hurried breathing and 
the damp little curls around her forehead 
told their own story ; the Quakeress had 
children and grandchildren of her own and 
she knew how easy it is to be late to meeting. 


320 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

Edging a little along the seat she handed 
Margery her neat little black fan which by 
pulling the string opened out of a short black 
stick. 

Gratefully, Margery took it and as she lifted 
her warm curls from off her neck and fanned 
her heated face, she glanced about her. 

Meeting had begun, and there was no sound 
in the big cool building beyond the occasional 
rustling of a silken skirt and the twittering 
of the birds outside in the giant tulip-poplar 
tree that spread its huge arms protectingly 
over the roof The side doors were open and 
the sun, appearing after a week of cold rain, 
stole softly in and touched a bowed head here 
and there and gilded the worn old benches. 

A bee came in by the side door, droned 
slowly in a circle and out again as he had 
come. The silence grew deeper and Margery, 
fanning herself slowly, scarcely dared to 
breathe. Finally from one of the raised seats 
facing the meeting one of the ministers rose 
and spoke briefly on faith and patience. 
With a sigh, Margery dropped her hand into 
her lap. How much faith and patience had 
she ? She recalled Deborah^s words “ Don't 


SjIM TAK.KS A RAISIT) 321 

get discouraged too early in the game/' But 
Deborah didn't know, Deborah couldn’t know 
how everything had gone wrong. Perhaps it 
was a little bit her own fault. Perhaps — a 
new thought to her — she ought just to have 
helped people when they needed it, and not 
tried to play Providence in their lives. Per- 
haps — but it wasn't any use looking back, and 
every one had been horrid, anyway. But after 
all, Deborah had always been kind to her, and 
dear little Benjamin — oughtn't she to help 
Deborah if she asked her to ? Some one else 
in the meeting rose and spoke, but Margery 
scarcely heard, her mind absorbed in her own 
small problem. She had made up her mind 
never to do anything for anybody again ; 
pride urged her to stick to it, affection urged 
her to yield. She started ; the elders had 
shaken hands and meeting was over. 

‘‘ Grandpapa," she said after luncheon, " I 
think that I'll go out to the farm this after- 
noon — Deborah invited me to go." 

She repented her decision when she reached 
the farm. Repeated callings failed to discover 
any one ; Mr. Morris and Dick she knew were 
both off for the day, and Bunnie and Benjamin 


322 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

had evidently gone somewhere, too. Even 
Thomas was not about, although the front 
door was unlatched after the usual easy-going 
fashion at the farm. 

Margery had told Walter to stop for her at 
five on his way back from Monroe where he 
was to take the car for some new parts, so 
with a disgusted shrug of her shoulders she 
selected a magazine from the collection on the 
library table and sat down to read. 

But the silent, empty house oppressed her; 
she grew nervous and fancied she heard 
strange noises and mysterious movements. 
Tucking the magazine beneath her arm, she 
got up and went out on the portico. It 
seemed even lonelier here, and she strolled 
around toward the back of the house. Under 
the grape arbor over the side door she found 
a bench where some cushions had been left. 
Settling herself there with her feet up and the 
cushions luxuriously behind her head she 
went on with the story she was reading, an 
uncanny, unpleasant tale of the body of a man 
caught in the crevasse of a glacier. Shudder- 
ing, she turned the page and read on, ab- 
sorbed. 


SAM TAKES A HAND 323 

Suddenly she stopped, and raising wide, 
startled eyes, listened. There was a sound, a 
strange menacing sound she had heard once 
before and never forgotten. 


CHAPTER XXII 


AT THE FARM 

Some one was strangling, a dreadful, croupy 
strangle. In a flash, Margery remembered 
Deborah^s concern about Benjamin. 

“Benjiel Benjie I she called. '‘Where 
are you, dear ? ” 

There was no answer. She tried to open 
the side door but it was bolted from within. 
After a violent shake or two of the door-knob, 
she drew back and began to call loudly at the 
open up-stairs windows. “ Hello, up there I 
Hello I 

No one answered, and she commenced to 
search through the bushes by the house. 
Some small animal might be in pain ; one of 
the kittens choking on a fish-bone, perhaps. 
She could find nothing, but as she straightened 
up and paused irresolute she thought that she 
heard the noise again. 

324 


AT THE FARM 


325 

Benjie I she called anxiously. Benjie f '' 
Still worried she ran around to the front 
door. There continued to be no response to 
her calls, and with a little gasp of relief she 
remembered that Benjamin had not been 
about when she arrived at the farm that after- 
noon. No doubt, she decided, he was playing 
with some of his small friends. 

“ I must be growing nervous,’^ she thought 
with self-disgust, sitting down on the hall sofa 
and picking absently at a worn place in the 
old haircloth covering. I do detest nervous, 
twittery people who are always thinking that 
they hear queer noises and getting scared. It 
would certainly be a good thing for me to go 
away from Renwyck’s Town and have a 
change.” 

She started and listened again. She wasnT 
imagining things. There was a noise I 

It came from somewhere in the second 
story, of that she felt positive. Up the stairs 
she ran, tripped and fell, and finished the rest 
of the way bent double, her hands on the step 
in front of her like a child. 

At the top she straightened up. The cough- 
ing seemed to come from Bunnie’s room. 


326 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

Running down the passageway leading from 
the main house through the south wing, she 
threw open the door and almost fell over 
something lying on the floor. 

“Who is it?” she cried, catching her 
breath. 

The shutters were closed and the room in 
darkness. Kneeling, she passed her hands 
over the object on the floor ; her groping 
fingers met a shock of short curls and she 
knew that it was Benjamin. 

His feet and legs were soaking wet as 
though he had slipped into the creek, and he 
was strangling and gasping with the croup. 

“ Benjie, oh, Benjie ! ” she exclaimed. “ It's 
Margie, dear.” 

He did not answer, and the dreadful stran- 
gling went on. 

Stumbling over the shoes and clothes left 
lying carelessly on the floor, Margery opened 
the shutters. The wild disorder of the room 
revealed Bunnie’s reason for closing them. 
Sweeping a half-trimmed hat and a pile of ^ 

ribbons and artificial flowers from the coun- i 

terpane, she dragged Benjamin to the bed, and * 
stripping off his wet shoes and stockings 'i 


AT THE FARM 327 

rolled him in the quilt. Bending over him 
and vainly trying to rouse him, Margery real- 
ized that he was very ill. 

Her heart sank. Alone in the big, empty 
house where was she to get help? 

And while she waited Benjamin would die. 

Almost as though in answer there came to 
her mind the remembrance of the day when 
little Helen Crowell had been so ill with the 
croup and old Martha had brought her round. 
Her heart beating wildly, Margery stood still, 
trying to remember each separate thing that 
Martha had done, and rehearsing her own plan 
of action. Benjamin’s fate lay in her hands, 
she knew ; and she must work. 

Afterward Margery never could tell just 
what she had done. She knew that her feet, 
working automatically, had taken her down 
to the kitchen, and that she had found her- 
self coming up-stairs again with a kettle of 
hot water in one hand and a box of mustard 
in the other. She remembered, too, standing 
before Deborah’s well-ordered medicine cab- 
inet, just as a little later she had stood before 
the telephone, demanding that ‘‘central ” give 
her Dr. Huston. Fortunately the telephone 


328 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

girl was quick-witted and obliging, and sup- 
plying the number, which Margery forgot to 
give, connected her at once. Like part of a 
bad dream Margery knew that she was told 
by the doctor's maid of his calling on Miss 
Patty Kirkby, and like another part of the 
same dream she heard herself asking central 
for Miss Patty, and then a voice answering 
hers, ‘‘ Yes, the doctor is here. I will call 
him at once." 

The relief was so blessed that Margery could 
scarcely control her voice sufficiently to tell 
the doctor what had happened and to answer 
his questions as to what she had already done. 
He approved, asking with a whistle of sur- 
prise how she had known what to do, and 
with some further directions, he promised to 
be there as soon as possible. 

Margery hung up the receiver and went 
back to Benjamin. The means she had used 
had brought relief and he was much easier, 
but she felt sure that he was still very ill and 
he plainly was exhausted. Again she tried 
to remember all that old Martha had done for 
little Helen Crowell, and recalling that she 
had wrapped her in warm blankets, went in 


AT THE FARM 329 

search of more covers. From the cedar chest 
in the hall she brought two big down quilts 
and the great heavy army blanket that Dick 
had used on several camping expeditions, 
and piled them all on top of Benjamin 
until the poor child lay in nearly as much 
danger of suffocation from heat as from 
croup. 

An automobile came up the driveway and 
Margery ran to the window, hoping against 
hope that the doctor had borrowed somebody’s 
car. To her disappointment, she saw Harry 
and caught a fleeting glimpse of Bunnie’s gay 
striped skirt as she alighted. Harry climbed 
out after her ; but having put down a can of 
something on the portico he got into the car 
again and drove off. 

The screen door banged and Bunnie went 
swiftly through the house to the kitchen. 

Bunnie I Bunnie I ” called down Mar- 
gery, opening the back stairs door. 

Bunnie’s footsteps ceased abruptly and there 
was not a sound from the kitchen. 

''Gracious, it’s hot down there,” Margery 
thought as she stood waiting. '' I wonder if 
I ought to take Benjie down where it is so 


330 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

much warmer. Bunnie/^ she called again, 

won^t you come up ? Benjie's very ill.” 

Still there was silence, then the faint sound 
of cautious footsteps tiptoeing across the floor. 

” Bunnie, oh, Bunnie I ” 

“Oh, all right. In a minute,” Bunnie’s 
answer came unwillingly. “ Don't bother me 
now.” 

“ Well, you needn't come if you don't want 
to,” thought Margery indignantly, going back 
to Benjamin. “ But I think that's a horrid 
way to act to your little cousin.” 

She sat down on the bed beside the child, 
and began to rub his chest again with the 
goose grease she had found in Deborah's 
medicine cabinet. He roused a little, and 
opening his eyes smiled at her. 

“ I feel better, Margie.” 

“ Yes, dear — but don't talk now.” 

The heavy eyelids closed again and Benja- 
min seemed to sleep. 

Margery, crouched on the big old four-post 
bed, looked down at the childish face against 
the pillow, and tenderly noted the long eye- 
lashes lying against the white cheeks, the 
tangled crop of short curls damp now with 


AT THE FARM 


331 

the effort of his breathing. Suppose, she 
thought, her chagrin had kept her from com- 
ing to the farm that afternoon, what would 
have happened to that well-beloved little 
friend ? 

She poured more goose grease into the palm 
of her hand and rubbed it on Benjamin's 
chest as vigorously as though she were trying 
to rub away all hurt and bitter thoughts from 
her own mind. The room was peaceful and 
still, with no sound but Benjamin's breathing 
and the ticking of a little clock on the bureau. 
Margery's foot went to sleep and as she 
pinched and prodded it, she leaned forward 
and watched the road as it wound across the 
fields and through the woods to the town. 
The doctor was not yet in sight. It was very 
quiet and restful in the big, old-fashioned 
room after the strain she had just been 
through, and she felt rather tired and sleepy. 

Suddenly there was a startled cry from the 
kitchen, the sound of a chair being over- 
turned, then piercing screams of Margery I 
Help me I Quick I " 

Frightened, Margery ran to the door, just 
as Bunnie, her arms seemingly a mass of 


332 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

flames, came screaming up the back stairs, 
rushed into the room, whirled around like a 
mad thing, and rushed out again. 

For a moment Margery, too, lost her head, 
and clinging to the door-jamb, shrieked her 
loudest. 

Then forced for the second time in one 
short hour to face an emergency, she dragged 
the heavy woolen blanket from the bed and 
ran after Bunnie. The flames had been 
fanned by the wild dash through the house, 
and the desperate girl was frantic with fright 
and pain as Margery caught up to her at the 
head of the stairs. 

“ Lie down, Bunnie I she commanded. 

Bunnie only shrieked again, and tossed her 
blazing arms above her head. 

“ Lie down ! Margery^s tone was fierce. 

For once Bunnie obeyed. With a moan 
she tumbled on the heavy carpet, her arms 
outstretched. Holding the blanket firmly in 
both hands, Margery fell on her and beat out 
the flames. 

White and exhausted, Margery sat up at 
last. Her own hands were burned and the 
curls around her face were singed, but she did 


AT THE FARM 


333 

not realize that until later. Bunnie groaned 
and raised her head. Get the oil/^ she 
whispered. On the sideboard.’^ 

Fortunately there was oil in the old cut- 
glass bottle, and soft napkins in the sideboard 
drawer. Faint and exhausted, Margery seized 
them and ran up the stairs again. 

The kitchen's on fire, too," Bunnie gasped, 
between paroxysms of pain. 

Margery, looking in horror at the poor arms 
and the long strips of burnt kid clinging to 
them, scarcely heard her. 

Yes, yes," she murmured. 

But Bunnie was insistent. put the 

house on — fire — and Grandpa will kill me — I 

disobeyed " she stopped, half fainting. 

Fire I Ominous word to Margery who had 
once been staying at a mountain hotel that 
burned down. No one had been killed, but 
she never had forgotten the horror of seeing 
the great sheets of flame sweep past her win- 
dow. • 

Panic stricken she jumped to her feet in a 
wild impulse for flight. But stronger than 
her terror was the thought of Benjamin. The 
smoke was pouring up the back stairs as she 


334 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

rushed into the room and seizing him in her 
arms, quilts and all, staggered down into the 
front hall with him. 

“ Get up, Bunnie,” she called back. ‘‘ Get 
up, or you’ll burn to death. Oh, Bunniel 
Get up I ” 

'' Margie,” Benjamin roused and tried to 
wriggle out of her arms, ** there’s smoke — I 
smell it.” 

‘‘ Yes, dear, yes,” she sank down on the 
lowest step. She must put Benjamin on the 
portico — surely he would be safe there — and 
then, as soon as she could find the strength to 
move, she must go and make Bunnie come 
down. 

Margie — there’s smoke.” 

“ Yes, dear — oh I what’s that? ” 

There was the sound of voices on the front 
steps, loud, cheerful voices, and Dick and Sam 
Bennet came stamping into the hall. 

“ Hello, Marge — you here ? Great Scott, 
what’s the matter ? ” 

Fire I The house is on fire ! ” 

Where?” shouted Dick. 

A great wave of smoke came down the 
stairs and Margery, choking, could scarcely 


AT THE FARM 


335 

answer. The kitchen/' she gasped. But 
wait, Dick I Don't go yet — Bunnie’s burned I " 

Where is she, where " Dick started 

off. 

Margery thrust Benjamin into Sam's arms. 

Dick, no, no," she implored, catching him 
at the dining-room door. She's up-stairs I 
Help me to get her down first ! " 

As she spoke, Bunnie, sobbing with terror 
and the agony of her burned arms, came sway- 
ing down the stairs. The boys, seeing that 
she was still alive and able to walk, hastily 
fastened their coats over their heads, and 
dashed into the kitchen. 

Margery would have followed them, but 
Bunnie, collapsing upon the sofa, clutched her 
hysterically. 

“ Oh, Margie — don't leave me ! Oh, my 
arms ! My arms I They hurt so I Can't you 
do something for them, Margery?" 

There was shouting, loud steps on the 
portico, and Dr. Huston rushed in, followed 
by the farmer and several men from the 
fields. 

Great goodness, children," he shouted, 
** the house is on fire I " 


336 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

Bunnie threw herself back on the sofa. 
“ Oh, doctor, doctor,'' she wailed, stop it, 
oh, do stop it burning I " 

Margery stood up. She felt very old and 
tired and stern. You're needed in the 
kitchen — the fire's there," she said firmly to 
the men. Doctor, Bunnie is badly burned." 

The doctor bent over Bunnie and examined 
her arms anxiously. Get more oil, Mar- 
gery," he ordered, and see if Deborah has 
any lime water." 

Bunnie, calmed somewhat by the doctor's 
presence, raised her head. “ There's more oil 
in the bottom drawer of the sideboard," she 
murmured. 

The dining-room was filled with smoke, 
and Margery had to feel her way to the side- 
board. In the kitchen those who were fight- 
ing the fire were shouting and running back- 
wards and forwards. That part of the house 
was old and a fire once started would spread 
rapidly. The water supply at the farm was 
inadequate, and Margery knew that the 
thought of fire was an ever present terror. 

“ What do people do in fires ? " thought 
Margery, dazed. ^ Roll them on a barrel ; 


AT THE FARM 


337 

expand the lungs ^ — no, that's for drowning. 
Oh, yes, they save things." 

Clutching the bottle of oil under her left 
arm, she opened the silver drawer of the side- 
board and holding her skirt as a bag piled 
Mr. Morris's much valued old-time forks and 
spoons into it, and blundered her way through 
the smoke to the hall door. 

In the hall she found that the doctor had 
taken command. 

“ That's right, Margery — give me the oil. 
I've taken Benjamin into the parlor. Go in 
there and keep him quiet. Somebody came 
in — I don't know whom — and I sent him up- 
stairs to save what he can." 

If action had been hard, inaction was harder 
still, and Margery, sujBfering from her hands, 
and struggling to keep Benjamin still, felt as 
though she would go frantic in the dim, quiet 
parlor. The endless minutes dragged on ; the 
doctor came in and inspected Benjamin, 
bandaged Margery's hands, and went out 
again. Overhead she could hear footsteps, 
and from the kitchen the shouting of the fire 
fighters. 

‘‘ Fire's out I " Eyebrows singed and face 


338 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

black with smoke, Dick appeared at last in 
the doorway. 

As he spoke there was the sound of wheels, 
and Deborah burst in, her bonnet on one side 
and her eyes wide with consternation. 

Children ! she gasped. Is the house 
on fire? — Or has a maniac gotten into the 
house? Some strange man's throwing every- 
thing out of the second story windows I " 


CHAPTER XXIII 


she's oue mascot " 

The rose garden at the White House Farm 
was next to his books Mr. Morris's greatest 
hobby. There were rare tea roses, and beauti- 
ful climbing roses that spread over trellis and 
arbor, and stately quaint rose trees standing 
haughtily about the sun-dial, reminding Mar- 
gery always of the illustrations in a once-loved 
fairy tale book of hers. One of her duties 
was to cut the roses every morning and to fill 
the vases in each room, reserving the finest 
flowers to be sent to other rose-lovers. The 
week of rain had spoiled some of the blossoms, 
but the morning after the fire found it June 
weather again, and in the garden Margery 
discovered many a lovely bud just ready to 
open. 

She felt very tired after the excitement of 
the day before, and her bandaged hands, while 
not especially painful, were inconvenient and 
339 


340 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

made her clumsy with her garden scissors. 
Still she was very happy in the warm June 
sunshine with the roses nodding about her, 
and she felt very different from the way she 
had done the morning before. 

She was thankful, so thankful, that she had 
heeded Deborah's wishes and gone to the 
farm. Suppose that there had been no one 
there when Benjie lay gasping, or when 
Bunnie had set herself on fire I Poor 
Bunnie ; disobedience had been promptly 
punished in her case. Always fearful of fire, 
her grandfather had forbidden her to use 
gasoline for cleaning. The more Bunnie was 
forbidden to do a thing, the more anxious, 
as a rule, she was to do it; and when her 
grandfather and Deborah had gone she had 
seized the opportunity to have her own 
way. Harry had been pressed into serv- 
ice, and together they had bought the can 
of gasoline and taken it to the farm. After 
Harry had gone back to the town to keep 
an engagement, Bunnie had rushed to the 
kitchen and begun a hurried cleaning of her 
collection of white gloves and light ribbons. 
She had been extremely careful and all had 


^^SHE^S OUR MASCOT'^ 


341 

gone well, until, in her anxiety to get every 
evidence of her occupation quickly out of the 
way, she had put on a pair of long white 
gloves still wet with gasoline and stood wav- 
ing her arms over the red hot stove. 

The gloves had taken fire at once, and in 
her pain and fright Bunnie had succeeded in 
upsetting the can of gasoline and in putting 
the sink and the old mahogany table next to 
it on fire. Nothing but the fact that the 
heavy old table had burned slowly with more 
smoke than fire, and that the woodwork had 
been well water-soaked from the constant 
splashing of the spigots had saved the house. 

As for Bunnie herself, her pretty arms were 
badly burned and would be scarred for many 
a long day. Her physical sufferings had been 
acute ; her mental sufferings had been nearly 
as bad. For conscience had told her that her 
careless neglect of Benjamin and failure to 
keep the trust reposed in her had almost had 
a most serious consequence. She was a very 
miserable and unhappy girl that night, and 
only by means of the opiate left by the doctor 
had Deborah been able to get her to sleep. 

After he had given full directions as to 


342 MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

Benjamin and Bunnie the doctor had insisted 
on driving Margery home himself, and not 
letting her wait for Walter and the car. 

** I think this little girl has had excitement 
enough this afternoon,’^ he said, '‘and the 
society of the dull old doctor ought to quiet 
her nerves and make her sleepy.” 

On the way home he had told her that Miss 
Patty was to be married soon to Duncan 
Patterson. “ The gossips had her engaged to 
me,” chuckled the doctor, all-unconscious. 
“ Who but some silly, senseless woman would 
cook up a thought like that I ” Margery had 
winced; then recovered somewhat. It was 
evident, she had thought, that the doctor had 
not “ gone and fallen in love with Miss Patty, 
and mixed things up some more ; ” that was 
some comfort. 

“ It was hard on Patty, though,” went on 
the doctor cheerfully, clucking to his horse, 
“ for it got back to the ears of Duncan and 
the young man was jealous.” He stopped 
and laughed, highly flattered that a man so 
much younger should have been jealous of 
him. “ That made it rather hard for Patty, 
as I was saying. But as the proverb has it, 


*^SHES OUR MASCOT^' 


343 

‘ the wells of joy are dug with the spade of 
sorrow/ and news of the rumpus having 
reached Susan Phipps, Patty's aunt, she has 
made up her mind to come and look after her 
mother and lift the burden from Patty’s 
shoulders. A thing she ought to have done 
long ago, for she has a little money, enough 
to pinch along on here, and no other ties. 
But she was companion to a wealthy woman 
who travels, and that was more interesting. 
However, to come to the point of my story — 
Miss Patty dropped hints about you and Polly 
being bridesmaids at her little wedding, so 
you’ll have to get some more color in your 
cheeks than you have been having lately. I 
am afraid there has been too much of Kiley’s 
rich cake between meals, and not enough oat- 
meal for breakfast. I ” 

Margery, relieved, and it must be confessed 
a trifle triumphant, had assented dreamily to 
the ensuing long lecture on hygiene. She 
had started to help Miss Patty, and she had 
done it, although not as she had intended. 
Anyway, they could stop scolding her now. 

'' Yes, indeed — I promise to eat a whole one 
every morning,” she said hastily, as a pause in 


344 MARGERT morris, MASCOT 

the doctor's voice warned her that he ex- 
pected an answer. 

Not until he laughed and then explained, 
did she realize that the course of his lecture 
had taken him from big plates of oatmeal to 
Indians and their lore, and that it was a Red- 
skin brave that she had been promising so 
earnestly to eat every morning. 

Rapidly recalling all that the doctor had 
said about Miss Patty, Margery reached with 
her scissors for a lovely Caroline Testout bud 
nodding above her head. She hoped, as she 
laid the rose carefully in the basket, that she 
and Polly would carry big bunches of pink 
blossoms like that when they were Miss 
Patty's bridesmaids. What fun it would be I 
If only — her face clouded — if only Polly were 
not so unfriendly.’ 

There was the sound of an automobile com- 
ing up the drive, and Margery, climbing on a 
bench in order to see over the high garden 
hedge, caught sight of Harry in his little car. 

She jumped down hastily, upsetting the 
roses. “ Bother," she thought, scrambling 
them back into the basket and pricking her 
thumb on a thorn. “ Bother I What does he 


SHE'S OUR MASCOT'* 


345 

have to come for? Just as I was having a 
nice time out here by myself, why does he have 
to push himself in? 1 hope Sarah won't 
know where I am.*' 

Her hopes however were not to be realized ; 
by the time that she had gathered up the last 
rose she saw Sarah bustling down the path 
from the house, Harry keeping discreetly in 
the rear. Margery hastily hid behind a tall 
mock-orange bush and peeping round it tried 
to shoo Sarah back. 

Sarah stood still and stared. The “ bhoys 
in her mind were always to be eagerly wel- 
comed and she could see no reason for Mar- 
gery's frantic signals. 

“ Whatever is the matter wid yez, Miss 
Margery ? " she called. “ Is there anything 
the matter that ye're hidin' behind that bush ? 
Mr. Harry's come to see you." 

Remarks that were perfectly audible to 
Harry, of course, so there was nothing to do 
but come forward and greet him, while she 
attempted to appear unconscious of Sarah. 

If Margery's manner was constrained, 
Harry's was more so. He was embarrassed 
and seemed to have trouble in managing his 


346 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

hands and feet. I’ve come to say good-bye, 
Margery,” he stammered at last, after she had 
talked rapidly and shyly about roses and the 
weather. I’m going away to-morrow.” 

Going away ? Why, Harry, where ? 

“ I’m going to try to make good.” 

Margery was puzzled. You mean you are 
going to school again — but there’s no school 
now? ” 

“ I’m going to work, for the present. One 
of the boys at school wrote to me and said he 
was going to take a job for the summer — a job 
with his father. There was a place for me, 
too, he said, if I wanted it. And I didn’t 
want it then — but, well, things you said 
rather got me — and yesterday, too. Every- 
thing combined made me feel I was pretty 
trifling. So I start in next week. I won’t 
make much, but perhaps it will help to pay 
Mother back some of the money I’ve wasted.” 

Oh, isn’t that fine 1 ” cried Margery, cor- 
dially. ^^I’m ever so glad ! Of course you’ll 
make good.” 

Then, I’ll come back and go to school here 
in the fall. Maybe if I make good they’ll 
take me — they wouldn’t before, you know.” 


*^SHE^S OUR MASCOT '' 347 


Not knowing exactly how to reply to this, 
Margery was silent. 

I — well — Margery, I think I ought to 
thank you for the tongue-lashing you gave 
me.*' 

“ Oh, Harry, I didn't mean to be rude — I — 
I was just trying to explain." 

“ You weren't rude — you were honest, 
that's all. But it woke me up, and made me 
face — what I really knew all along, only I 
didn't want to acknowledge it — that I was 
acting like a cad to Mother. Besides, if I was 
such a trifling, good-for-nothing gump that 
nice people wouldn't have me at their houses 
— it was time I changed. And then came 
yesterday — that got me, I can tell you I 
Well, good-bye, Margery. I hope you have 
a jim-dandy summer. Think of me some- 
times, punching the time clock." 

They shook hands cordially and parted. 

As Harry left Margery picked up the basket 
of roses and went slowly and thoughtfully 
into the house. She put the roses in a big 
stone crock of cold water and took them down 
into the cellar to '' harden " before they were 
to be arranged in the vases ; then, her work 


348 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

mainly done, she ran up-stairs to her room. 
From the desk by the window she drew out 
the letter she had written to Mrs. Endicott 
and deliberately tore it into tiny pieces. 

Miss Margery,'' Sarah appeared at the 
door, Mister Dick's down-stairs. He says 
Miss Bunnie wants to see you." 

Margery flew down the steps. '‘What's the 
matter, Dick ? Is Bunnie worse? " 

Dick grinned cheerfully. " Oh, no, — she’s 
a little better. We just had a talk this morn- 
ing, and when we got through she said she 
wanted to see you, — that's all. So I thought 
I'd stop for you — it w^asn't out of my way. 
She wanted to see Polly, too. I wasn't told 
why," and Dick grinned again, mysteriously. 

Driving through the pleasant country lanes 
sparkling after the rain, they discussed the 
fire and the things that had led up to it. 

" It certainly was lucky for us — and for 
Benjie — that you were there," said Dick 
gravely, for the little brother was very dear 
to him ; "you've been a regular mascot to this 
family." 

" Dick I " Margery's tone was tragic. "iVever 
use that word to me.'^ 


*^SHE^S OUR MASCOT** 


349 

Dick was astonished and a trifle offended. 
‘'Why not? What is there about the word 
mascot to offend your highness? 

Margery paused. " Well — if you promise 
not to tell a soul/' she said hesitatingly, “and 

not to laugh " She paused again ; Dick 

she knew by experience had a comfortable, 
common-sense way of taking things. Besides, 
he was there at the moment and willing to 
listen, and she needed a confidant. “ Well — 
promise you won't laugh ? " 

Dick did laugh as she finished her story, a 
hearty, boyish burst of laughter that brought 
an answering smile to Margery’s lips in spite 
of herself. 

“ You poor kid," he said, struggling to stifle 
his amusement. “ I guessed something was 
wrong, but I didn't tiling it was that bad. 
Why didn't you tell me before? — oh, I see, 
you felt too bad about it before, but yester- 
day made you feel better. Well, you certainly 
did get yourself up a tree I I must say you 
have a genius for that I " 

Margery acknowledged this tribute to her 
ability with becoming modesty. “ You can 
see," she added wearily, “ why the word 


350 MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

mascot is too much for me. Please never use 
it again in my hearing 1 

I mayn't be able to help it” Dick said 
gravely, although his eyes twinkled. ‘'But 
I promise you it won't be more than once." 

Well, just once," Margery conceded, pri- 
vately wishing that Dick would stop trying 
to be funny. 

“ But do you know, Dick," she went on 
after a pause, “ I can see now that the way to 
help people is just to help them when they 
need it — not to try to play Providence in 
their lives. That's where I made my mistake 
— I tried to take people's lives and run them." 

“ I guess that's where lots of people make 
their mistake," Dick said sagely. “ That's 
the trouble with a lot of charity — people don't 
really want to help other people — they want 
to own them and boss them." 

They turned in at the gate of the farm, and 
once more Margery found herself driving 
down that familiar avenue of pine-trees. On 
the portico she could see Benjamin, recovered 
enough to be up and about the house, hopping 
up and down on one foot in his impatience. 
Behind him stood another figure. 


^^SHE^S OUR MASCOT** 351 

Polly 1 thought Margery. “ Oh, dear I 
The carriage stopped at the steps and Mar- 
gery got out slowly. She felt unequal to 
facing Polly just then. Well, Benjie dear,'' 
she said, holding out her bandaged hands to 
the child, and trying to smile at him, how 
are you feeling to-day ? " 

But Polly, who had been having a long talk 
with Bunnie, was as impulsive in her re- 
pentance as she had been in her anger. Oh, 
Margery Daw," she cried, running down the 
steps and throwing her arms around Mar- 
gery's shoulders, Bunnie’s been telling me 
how you saved her life, and Benjie's too, and 
put out the fire and everything I And Bun- 
nie’s been telling me — oh, lots of things I 
And, Margie — I’m sorry I've been such a 
gump. Will you forgive me? " 

Margery choked. For a moment she stood 
battling with pride — Polly had hurt her, 
should she be forgiven so easily ? There was 
a pause, and Polly stood waiting. 

Then, without a word, she quietly slipped 
her bandaged hand through Polly's arm and 
pressed it affectionately. 

Polly turned to Dick, busily unloading 


35a MARGERT MORRIS, MASCOT 

packages from the carriage and elaborately 
oblivious of the little scene between the two 
girls. Aren’t you glad and thankful, Dick,” 
she asked, “ that Margery came to Renwyck's 
Town? What should we ever have done 
without her ? ” 

Dick threw a teasing glance at Margery. 
“ Yes,” he said, and Margery felt a kindly, 
deeper meaning under his light tone, she’s 
our mascot.” 


The Stories In this Series are : 

MARGERY MORRIS 

MARGERY MORRIS, MASCOT 

MARGERY MORRIS AND PLAIN JANE (in press) 




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